Meiji Keikan Romantan
by misaki-toyodome
Summary: "Meiji Police Officer Romance" - a sequel to "The Courtship of Lady Tokio". Filling in the story of Saitou Hajime through the manga timeline. Introducing the Fujita family, with flashbacks to the first years of his marriage and his Shinsengumi days. History, politics, action, and old-fashioned Japanese romanticism! Sanosuke & Megumi make their appearance in the latest chapter.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is a fictionalized account based on the manga 'Rurouni Kenshin' and in part on historical facts._

* * *

**MEIJI KEIKAN ROMANTAN - _A Sequel to 'The Courtship of Lady Tokio' _**

* * *

**Prologue**

One hundred fifty years ago, with the arrival of the Black Ships, chaos and turmoil rose up in Japan.

In the eye of the storm, in Kyoto, there was a man who was feared as 'Miburo', 'Wolf of Mibu'. He bloodied his sword countless times in order to protect the law and order of the land, and to uphold his vision of justice. He fought valiantly through the madness of the Bakumatsu, although ultimately the war was lost. He disappeared on the battlefields of Aizu, but his name remained infamous though time passed.

In the eye of the storm, there was a lady from the northern lands, who was cherished as 'The Flower of Aizu'. Those who knew her said that her beauty was the least of her charms, and she worked tirelessly for the sake of her land, her lord, and the man she loved. Hers was a bitter lot when her people were branded as 'Imperial Enemies', in spite of years of loyal duty to the Emperor and the Tokugawa Shogunate. Yet, despite defeat, she held her head high and she persevered, though almost everything she held dear was lost.

In the 11th year of Meiji, in downtown Tokyo, there lived a police officer and his wife. Their neighbors thought that they were a nice, respectable couple, with a nice house and nice garden and a nice little boy. This was true, but not the whole truth, for theirs was a life far from ordinary. Nonetheless, it was the ordinary joys of everyday living that they both treasured and worked hard to protect.

Though the times changed and so too their names, flowers still bloomed, and the Wolf of Mibu was still the Wolf of Mibu.

* * *

#######

* * *

**Please check out the tumblr site for updates, extras (pictures!) and Eeni's doujinshi for 'The Courtship of Lady Tokio'! ****Details are on the profile page.**

******Eeni has now posted chapter 2 of the CLT doujinshi**, and if you haven't already seen her work, it's brilliant! The action scenes are fantastic, I love her take on the characters, and she's added her own unique touch and sense of humor. It's incredibly ambitious and she has my full support and undying gratitude. We hope you enjoy it too: after all, how many quality English-language doujinshis are there for RK?! We would be delighted if you would take a look, follow us, leave comments, and in general, send us your encouragement! CLT took a lot of love and research, and drawing manga is no walk in the park. Thank you very much!

**Greetings: **To anyone who read my previous work, hello again! To all first time readers, a warm welcome! To be honest, I had no plans to start writing again so soon, but what with Eeni making the doujinshi and the 2012 RuroKen Renaissance, I was so fired up that I couldn't relax. I realized that there was so much that I had left out and that there were so many gaps to be filled. Readers do not need to read CLT before starting this, though it will feature certain characters and settings from the story. This work will take place during the manga timeline, wherein l endeavor to fill in the events from Saitou's side. There will be historical and cultural stuff to get through (again), so my apologies in advance. There will also be flashbacks to the Bakumatsu, in which our beloved Shinsengumi characters will reappear. As a result, the chapters may not all be in sequence and could be more 'stand-alone' types.

My main hope, as always, is that people will enjoy it and spread the Saitou x Tokio love! Thank you very much in advance for your time and all your kind support, and I look forward to hearing from you!

**The title is a play on RK's own subtitle, "Meiji Kenkaku Romantan"**: 'Keikan' means 'police officer' and 'Romantan' is a 'romance' in the novelistic sense (a tale dealing with a chivalrous hero; a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement and remoteness from every day life). The prologue itself is based on the opening page of the manga.

**Notes: **I have not watched all of the anime - I'm a manga purist for the most part. I have tried to keep the characterizations as true as possible to Watsuki-sensei's vision, but will not always succeed (please do let me know where I fail). FYI: this Saitou-san has a quirky sense of humor and is not all snarls and blood lust. After all, he's the kind of person who'll dress up as a kooky medicine peddler, and give people funny nicknames. He's the type of guy who sneezes four times while eating soba and apologizes to the waitress. He does not always come off as cool and aloof - take his parting scene at Shingetsu-mura for example, where he actually *pats* Kenshin on the shoulder. He's quite a generous and honorable man, willing to take in the orphan brother of his subordinate (he could have just packed him off to an orphanage). And he's the kind of husband who casually brags about his wife to his arch-rival. So that's the kind of Saitou-san that I fell in love with - it's that contrast with his ruthlessness that adds depth - and I hope that's the kind of Saitou-san that people will enjoy reading about too!


	2. Chapter 1 - A Police Officer & His Wife

_Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is a fictionalized account based in part on historical facts. _

* * *

**MEIJI KEIKAN ROMANTAN **

**Chapter 1 – A Police Officer and His Capable Wife **

_* References to volume 8 & 9 of manga * _

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), mid-May – Numazu port, Shizuoka prefecture =

In all of Japan, there were few things as magnificent as the sight of the sun setting on Mount Fuji. As the ship set sail from the port of Numazu, the vision of flame and gold and purple shadow seared itself into Mishima Eiji's mind. The enormous, eternal mountain had dominated the landscape from his earliest memories, and all the way from Shingetsu-mura to Numazu, it seemed to Eiji as though the mountain god watched over him.

"On a clear day, you can see Mount Fuji from our house too." A tall, lean figure drew near behind him, and lit up a cigarette.

Eiji glanced at his new guardian – a lieutenant inspector of the Metropolitan Police and his late brother's superior – and turned his gaze back to the retreating view of the mountain. The seagulls cried to each other overhead as they made for their nighttime roosts.

"_Don't worry. Tokio is a capable woman. She'll take good care of Eiji." _

The words echoed in his mind. The discussion about his future had been brief and the decision to go had been made swiftly. The police officer had asked him whether he had any other family that he could rely on, and when the boy had answered in the negative, the man had informed Eiji that he was to accompany him to Tokyo. In any case, Eiji could not have stayed in the village, nor did he want to, after what he had just survived.

There had been little further conversation on the journey from the village to Numazu; what few words they had exchanged had been instructions rather than pleasantries.

"_Do not refer to me as Saitou from now on. I know that's what they called me, but my name is Fujita Gorō." _

"_I trust you to be discreet about my household. Do not talk about us to others." _

The way those points had been impressed upon him made it clear that it was a serious matter, and from what little he knew about his brother's work and his brother's superior, he at least understood that it was highly classified business. Mishima Eiichirō had always been aware that he could die in the line of duty, but at the end, he had died trying to protect his younger sibling.

As twilight extended its grasp on the heavens, Eiji kept his eyes on the coast and the twinkling lights of the town. He took a deep breath; the sea air filled his nostrils and lungs, and his heart filled anew with pain and regret.

"Don't cry in public, kid." Fujita exhaled the cigarette smoke slowly.

"I'm not crying." Eiji sounded hoarse, but it was true that he was not crying.

"We'll be in Tokyo by the morning. Get some rest tonight."

"In a while." Eiji did not budge, and his eyes began to strain, either from the toll of his emotions or from staring at the rapidly darkening coastline.

For another while, the two remained quietly on the deck, the tall man and the scrawny boy, but it was not entirely uncomfortable. As his cigarette burned shorter, Fujita broke the silence.

"You showed courage today. Never forget that."

Eiji eyed him warily, taken aback by the statement.

"But you stopped me from killing him," he uttered through gritted teeth.

"Ahou. I told you that revenge killing was outlawed in Meiji Year 6. But you still showed courage." A plume of smoke curled up into the air. "And do not forget what that man Himura told you either."

A sigh escaped from Eiji's lips. Fujita, it would appear, was trying to console the boy in his own way. However, Fujita was not a man to offer sweet words of solace.

"Himura-san, he is very strong." Eiji was still struggling to come to terms with the events of the past days as best he could. Strangely enough, he had not cried again since Himura Kenshin had beaten Senkaku. The grief he carried for his family was devastating but it also numbed him, and it remained tightly locked within his small body.

"He used to be stronger," Fujita answered shortly.

"My brother, he wasn't so strong." Eiji's voice dropped low, and Fujita narrowed his eyes at his words.

"He was strong enough." The ember of the cigarette glowed brightly in the gloom.

"You said he was a stupid man." The boy snapped, as he remembered with a jolt some of the first words he had heard from Fujita's mouth.

"He should have waited for me, that's true." It was difficult to make out Fujita's expression in the dimness, but his voice had lost its customary sardonic edge. "He decided to take matters into his own hands, when he should have trusted me." Eiji glared at the man, and he fought to control the impulse to lash out. "But he was strong enough," Fujita continued. "He was strong enough to escape from Senkaku, and save you."

At that, Eiji dropped the wrapped bundle that he had been carrying with such care. His brother's splintered sword clattered to the wooden deck; he scrambled to pick it up and wound the makeshift covers around the blade.

"I told you not to cry in public," Fujita said irritably.

"I told you, I'm not crying!" Eiji retorted hotly.

"And go get some rest. The ship arrives at dawn, and you'll have a full day tomorrow."

"Fujita-san," he clutched his brother's sword tightly to his chest. "Are you strong like Himura-san?"

"Hmph." Fujita snorted in faint amusement. "Why, do I look weaker than him?"

"So you are strong?" Eiji asked insistently, and Fujita studied him for a moment.

"I can tell you that we've fought a few times, and I've never lost," the man answered after a pause.

"So, can I trust you?" The boy's voice quivered. "Can I trust you to defeat Shishio, and get justice for my family and my village?"

Fujita dropped the dying butt of his cigarette to the deck, and ground it out with his heel.

"You can trust me." He held Eiji's gaze unwaveringly. "Now, for the last time, go get some rest."

Eiji nodded slowly, and took one last look at the land.

"_On a clear day, you can see Mount Fuji from our house too." _

Night had fallen, but the moon was rising, and he could make out the faint outline of Fuji in its silver light. He closed his eyes, and fancied that the mountain watched over him still. He was going far away, but he would be able to see the mountain, and look towards his old home. He prayed that the village would recover from its tragic past one day, and one day, he hoped to return with his head held high.

Fujita watched the small figure as he descended below deck. Children were resilient, he knew, but there were some scars that would never fade. The most he could do was to provide the boy with a place to heal, so that the wounds would not fester.

"_Tokio is a capable woman. She'll take good care of Eiji." _

The corners of his lips curved upward as he remembered the explosive impact that his words had had on the Battousai and the weasel girl. He had heard them when they had compared her to a Bodhisattva, and it had been difficult to keep a straight face. He knew better than anyone else just how capable his wife was, and while she might not actually be a divinity, he had absolute faith in her. Eiji would be in good hands, and in time, he would come to appreciate just how fortunate he was, in spite of his misfortune.

* * *

= Following afternoon, Bunkyo ward, Tokyo =

All the stories and rumors that Eiji had heard about Tokyo had not prepared him for the enormous metropolis. There were large, western-style buildings built of brick, and shops selling all sorts of wares, and the streets swarmed with people wearing fashionable outfits. The boy was awestruck by one thing after another, but not a single soul paid any attention to him, going about their busy lives.

"Don't get lost because you're too busy gawping," Fujita warned gruffly, though he slowed his pace. He was mindful that his strides were longer and faster than the average person. "You'll have time for sightseeing another day."

"Fujita-san, there's a strange man in that rickshaw?!" Eiji could not contain his curiosity when he saw a man as tall as Fujita, with a ruddy complexion and straw-colored hair, heading towards them in one of the passenger carts.

"Don't stare with your mouth open, you look like a fool." However, Eiji was not the only one who stared at the strange character as the rickshaw passed by. "We're close to the University of Tokyo - he's probably a foreign teacher or professor there."

"University?" Eiji had heard that there were such institutions in Tokyo, but he had not had much schooling himself in the village. "So they really have foreign teachers?" It was his first time even seeing a foreigner.

"It's the age of 'Bunmei Kaika' after all. Apparently, we're being 'civilized and enlightened' by western influences." There was a trace of irony in Fujita's answer.

As Fujita walked on ahead, Eiji looked over his shoulder; the foreigner had dismounted at the rickshaw station at the crossroads. With the crowds of people and the dizzying amount traffic, against the backdrop of grand avenues and the din of city life, it was a scene far removed from his rural life in the Shizuoka countryside.

Eiji had only arrived in Tokyo that morning and had spent most of the day at the local police station. It was not the main police headquarters but nonetheless, the western-style structure struck him as quite impressive. He felt out of place as he was shown to a private office, where he was told to sit quietly as Fujita filed reports and filled out paperwork. Some senior officers, including the station chief, came to meet with Fujita and talk to the boy, asking them both some questions but nothing in much detail. It was obvious that Fujita was held in high esteem and that for the most part, his superiors trusted his judgment as it concerned his assignment.

"_You know that what you were involved in is a top-secret affair, and a matter of national security. You cannot talk about it with anyone else."_

The station chief had emphasized this to Eiji several times, and he had been made to swear to confidentiality. 'If only the police had been more reliable, then Shishio would never have been able to take over the village.' The thought bubbled up in his mind, but he forced himself to swallow his bitterness. Waiting for Fujita to finish his work, Eiji felt drained; he had not slept much on the boat journey, lying awake in the night and listening to the sounds of the ship as it made its way through the water. It was not until late in the afternoon, when the sun was already tilting west, that he was told it was time to leave.

Fujita made his way through the city mostly in silence, pointing out some landmarks now and then to the boy hurrying to keep up behind him.

"That's the Shinobazu Pond of Ueno - you should have heard of Ueno Park, where Kan'ei-ji Temple is. "

"That red gate down there is the entrance to the University of Tokyo."

"Up there is Ijin-zaka - it's called that because it's the hill where all the westerners who work around here live."

It was all a whirl to Eiji, as he soon lost his bearings in the maze of urban development. Gradually, the buildings became less commercial and more residential. Children played in the lanes, and the smell of home cooking wafted in the air. They carried on until they reached a quiet neighborhood, removed from the main roads, and here the houses were built back from the street, with stately gates and garden walls shielding the residents from plain view.

They rounded yet another corner, and Eiji stopped and gasped as a white blur came bounding towards them.

"Stand back a little," Fujita unconcernedly instructed his charge, and then called out to the rapidly advancing ball of movement. "Stop."

With a few sharp yips, a large, white dog skidded to a halt in front of the tall man, furiously wagging its tail and panting. Eiji watched in amazement as Fujita removed his white gloves and patted the dog firmly on its head and scratched its ears.

"Sit," Fujita commanded and the dog immediately obeyed. By way of explanation, he told Eiji, "This is Muku. She's our family dog. You'll greet her properly, and don't be nervous. If you're too frightened, she won't take well to you."

Eiji looked at Fujita uneasily. He was not used to dogs; the few in his village had been killed or taken by Shishio's men, and the stray dogs in the mountains were vicious. This dog was larger than any he had ever seen, with pointed ears and curled tail, and a thick, creamy coat of fur.

"She won't bite... at least not if you're with me." Fujita said with a hint of a smirk. "Don't show fear, and give her your hand to smell."

Eiji slowly extended his hand and Muku eagerly sniffed it. The dog looked up at the boy, then at her master, and seeing that her master nodded, she wagged her tail again.

"Now, shake." Muku lifted up her right paw at her master's command. She had been trained that this gesture indicated somebody who was to be permitted into their inner circle.

Eiji took her paw slowly, and she panted as though she was satisfied. He copied what he had seen Fujita do and reached to scratch her ears. They were extremely soft, and the dog pressed her head against his hand.

"I've never seen a dog like her before," Eiji said wonderingly.

"She's an Akita matagi dog, from the north. They make excellent guard dogs – she'll protect you with her life if she accepts you as a member of the family." Fujita began to walk again, his eyes fixed on his destination. "That's the house there."

There were a few, fairly large houses on the block, but only one did not have a name plaque on its gate. Instead, the gate and the garden walls were adorned with wisteria vines, carefully maintained for a striking effect. As Eiji hastened after Fujita, the apprehension that he had tried to quell so far on his journey began to well up in his chest. He had travelled a long way from the only home and life he knew, and the Fujitas were strangers. He had no idea what to expect once he entered those gates.

A handsome, cheerful-looking man was standing in the front garden, and greeted them as he saw them approach.

"Welcome back, Ani-ue! We knew you were coming when Muku ran out. I thought you were going to be gone for much longer."

"Something unexpected came up," Fujita said curtly. "Are you here for the day?"

"Well, seeing as it's the weekend," the man nodded, and then bowed to Eiji with a smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Something Unexpected." Fujita frowned at the man's attempt at humor.

"Eiji, this is Takagi Morinosuke, my younger brother-in-law and general nuisance. Morinosuke, this is Mishima Eiji, the younger brother of my late subordinate." Eiji bowed his head while Fujita made the introductions. An expression of sympathy passed over Morinosuke's face as he looked at Eiji, causing the boy to turn his face away.

A movement from the front door caught his attention and Eiji looked up as a woman stepped gracefully out of the house.

"Okaerinasai-mase, Danna-sama." She bowed and smiled tenderly at her husband, then addressed the boy who accompanied him. "And you must be Mishima Eiji-san. I received my husband's note this morning. My name is Tokio, Fujita's wife." To his dismay, Eiji found that he was momentarily tongue-tied in front of the most elegant lady he had ever met. His eyes darted from the woman to Fujita, and back to the woman. Sensing his discomfort, Tokio added warmly with a bow, "Yoroshiku onegai shimasu."

"Yoro-, yoroshiku onegai shimasu," Eiji managed to stammer out, and returned her bow.

"Eiji-san, I am so sorry for your loss, but you are most welcome in my home." Her voice was very kind, and tinged with sorrow.

A hard lump rose in Eiji's throat; she was the first person to offer him condolences since he had left the village. A part of him felt relieved that he would not have to explain the situation, that Fujita had taken care of it in advance. He looked up at the woman, and he began to tremble slightly under her gaze. Did he imagine it, or did he see a grief to match his own mirrored in her eyes? Tokio's next words released the dam of emotions that he was holding back.

"It's alright, this is a safe place. There's no more need to be scared." He felt as though an immense burden was being lifted off his shoulders.

He sniffed as his nose itched, and hot tears coursed down his cheeks. Then, a low wail issued from the pit of his stomach, and he was instinctively moving towards her, and soon he was sobbing against the woman's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," she murmured as she stroked his head, trying to soothe him.

His tears soaked into her kimono and his nose began to run. He pulled away, afraid of soiling her clothes, but instead of letting him go, she handed him a handkerchief and drew him back into her comforting arms. He was conscious of the fact that he was making a scene, but he could not stop himself. For all that he had tried his best to put on a brave front, Mishima Eiji was only a child, and he was desperately, terribly hurt and lonely. Morinosuke looked on with concern, glancing now and again at his brother-in-law, but Fujita simply watched impassively as his wife consoled the boy.

It was Muku that broke the tension. She had been agitated by Eiji's distress, and after a few minutes, unable to contain herself any longer, she jumped up on Eiji's shoulders and licked his ear. Eiji gave a yelp of surprise and began to laugh, as Tokio scolded the dog and made her sit back down.

"I'm sorry, I hope she didn't frighten you. Muku is worried about you, that's all." Tokio apologized for Muku's behavior.

"No, she didn't frighten me," Eiji hiccupped and ventured a small smile. He blew his nose into the handkerchief. "Ah…" He saw the wet stains on Tokio's shoulder and bowed his flushed face. "I'm sorry, about your kimono."

"It's alright, Eiji-san," Tokio chuckled softly. "We have a son, barely a year and a half old. I'm very familiar with tears and runny noses."

"Not to mention vomit and dirty nappies," Morinosuke chimed in.

"Well, I'm sorry," Eiji repeated in a chastened tone, turning redder as he saw that Fujita watched him. "I'm sorry for crying." He did not want the man to think less of him.

"Ahou," Fujita turned away from them. "It doesn't matter – we're not in public anymore." Eiji quickly wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"Danna-sama, your sword?" Tokio tilted her head in question, as she noticed that Fujita's hand was on the hilt of his weapon.

"There's a creep skulking in the bushes over there," he said in a cool voice.

"Hey!" A voice protested, and a man sidled out from around the corner of the house. "I resent that! I was just trying to be sensitive and avoid intruding on a private matter."

Eiji looked over Tokio's shoulder in astonishment. The man (around the same age as Morinoke, he guessed) was attired very flashily, and in western style clothes at that. He even wore a funny kind of hat on his head. Although Eiji knew that military and police officers dressed in uniforms, it was not until he came to Tokyo that he had seen people wearing suits.

"I told you before, fake foreigners are not welcome in my house." The younger man cowered under Fujita's glare. "What did you bring this time as an excuse to visit?"

"He brought me some beautiful roses," Tokio casually positioned herself between her husband and the modish man who had dared bring her gifts. "And he knows that he is welcome here at any time," she added, ignoring the black looks that her husband was throwing her way. "Eiji-san, this is a family friend of ours, Yamakawa Kenjirō-san. Kenjirō-san, this is Mishima Eiji-san, who will be staying with us for the foreseeable future."

Kenjirō and Eiji bowed awkwardly to each other. Eiji's head was spinning, from the fraught situation, his emotional outburst, and all the strangers he was meeting. It was all quite overwhelming.

"Actually, Fujita-san, I also brought you some Aizu soba!" Kenjirō eagerly sought to diffuse the man's ire. "We had a delivery of soba flour from Aizu yesterday, so my sister made a fresh batch today."

Fujita stared at the younger man coldly, but relented after a moment.

"We're having it for dinner?" He asked his wife.

"Yes, and I also made some kozuyu." At that, a shadow of a smile played on Fujita's lips.

"And he's not staying." It was not a question but an assertion.

"I told him that it would be better to have just family tonight," Tokio answered, with a regretful smile at her guest. "But would you care for some tea, Kenjirō-san?"

"Ah, thank you, Tokio-san, but I best be going now." Yamakawa Kenjirō recognized that at times, the better part of valor lay in retreat. "Eiji-kun, it was nice to meet you. Morinosuke, I'll see you later this week. Fujita-san," Kenjirō bowed deeply, "please take care." Muku barked shortly as Kenjirō turned to leave. "And you too, Muku." Eiji watched perplexedly as the man took off his hat with a flourish of his arm and gave the dog an odd sort of bow.

Fujita ignored the spectacle and made towards the entrance of the house as Tokio and Morinosuke waved farewell to Kenjirō. Morinosuke, seeing that Eiji was still staring after the departing figure, shrugged his shoulders as though to say, 'what do you make of that'.

"You wouldn't think it, but he's actually an assistant professor at the University of Tokyo." It was not much of an excuse for the odd behavior of his friend.

"An assistant professor?" He did not look like any teacher Eiji had ever seen. "That man? What does he teach?" He wondered whether the man worked alongside the foreigner he had seen earlier.

"Physics."

"What is that?" Eiji asked blankly.

"Frankly, I don't really know." Morinosuke chuckled. "Let's go inside – they're waiting for us."

Eiji turned towards the genkan, and he saw that Fujita had handed Tokio his sword and was taking off his shoes. 'These people', Eiji realized, 'must be from the samurai classes.' A samurai would remove his sword upon entering his house, and it was normally his wife's duty to set it away. The etiquette was ingrained from a young age, so much so that one could tell a born-samurai from an impostor by how naturally those actions were performed.

He ducked nervously inside the door.

"Please, come in." Tokio gently urged him forward. "And if I may, would you mind leaving your sword with me?"

Eiji blanched as a wave of unease washed over him. However, he saw Fujita look at him and nod brusquely, and when he looked back at Tokio, she smiled again at him in a way that calmed his anxiety. For the first time since he had taken it from his brother's grave, he let go of the sword.

"We will have to find a good sheathe for it," Tokio handled it with the utmost care. Eiji let out a sigh that he had not realized he was holding in. He took off his footwear and stepped up from the genkan into the house. "Muku, go around the back," she directed the dog. Morinosuke closed the door behind them.

"Would you like a bath first or food first?" Tokio inquired of her husband as they walked down the entrance hall.

"A bath. The boy should have one too." Fujita decided for them both, and Tokio nodded in acknowledgement.

"Morinosuke, could you mind Eiji-san for a few minutes? You can wait in the main room."

"Come on then Eiji-kun, down this way." Morinosuke smiled gently at the boy, and for the first time, Eiji thought that he looked like his sister. He heard Fujita asking his wife as they disappeared around a corner,

"Where's Tsutomu?"

"He hasn't woken from his afternoon nap yet – Morinosuke and Kenjirō-san were playing with him, and tired him out…." Tokio's voice grew fainter as they moved away.

It was a scene of simple domesticity, far removed from the recent horrors of Shingetsu-mura, and it caused a pang in Eiji's chest.

"We'll wait in here," Morinosuke said as he slid open a pair of screen doors.

The main room was spacious, and sparsely but tastefully decorated. He wondered if all the people in Tokyo had such nice homes. The screen doors facing the garden were opened, and a pleasant breeze danced through the flowers. Muku had heeded her mistress' command and was sitting patiently in front of the engawa.

"It's a nice house," Eiji felt the need to say something as Morinosuke directed him to sit on a cushion.

"Haha, I guess it is." Morinosuke knew how fastidious and particular Tokio was about her home. "Ani-ue is very tall, so they needed a place with high ceilings, although it's not as big as some other houses in the neighborhood." Eiji looked up and saw that the ceilings were much higher than a typical house.

Both of them were hesitant in how to act towards the other, and for a while, a silence persisted. Eiji was weary and wanted to rest, but felt too nervous to relax. Morinosuke wavered between striking up a pleasant conversation (which seemed inappropriate and insincere) and offering him sympathy (which might seem patronizing). They both looked out at the garden, trying to read the other, and watched as Muku snuffled around under the hydrangea bushes. A frog jumped out, startling Muku, and by some mischief of chance, then leapt on the dog's head, using it as a springboard to make its escape. The dog yipped indignantly and chased after it, eliciting peals of laughter from the onlookers. They smiled, and relaxed.

"Muku is a very nice dog," Eiji began to talk.

"She is - she's smart and she's a pretty one." Morinosuke seemed relieved to have found an unforced topic to talk about.

"Tokio-san is very pretty too," Eiji said with the candor of youth, although at the back of his mind, he realized that his thoughts were somewhat disjointed.

"Well, she's past thirty so I'm not sure 'pretty' is the word to use for a middle-aged woman," Morinosuke sounded doubtful.

"She looked at me very sadly though." He had been drawn to her sympathy, and opened up to her.

"Ah…." To Eiji's surprise, the same, sad expression appeared on Morinosuke's face. "She is sad for you, Eiji-kun, as am I." Eiji looked away. There was such genuine empathy in those eyes, as though Morinosuke understood exactly what he was feeling, and it bewildered him. "Did my brother-in-law tell you anything about us?"

"Just that Tokio-san would take care of me, and that I wasn't to talk about the family," Eiji mumbled, his eyes lowered to the floor.

"I see…." Morinosuke sighed deeply. "Eiji-kun, my sister and I are originally from Aizu." Eiji's breath caught in his throat. "Have you heard of it?" He nodded – even young children had been taught that the people of Aizu had resisted the Meiji Restoration and been branded as Imperial Enemies. "I'm sure you must have heard that we were terrible people, who rebelled against the Emperor, but that's not the truth. What is true is that we lost the war, and we lost our homeland and our family and everything we had." It dawned on Eiji that this man and his sister might have experienced things just as terrible as what he had lived through. "I don't know what exactly it is that you've been through, and I won't ask. It's against the rules for me to pry into Ani-ue's work, in any case. But I can tell you that we know a thing or two about loss and hardship."

Eiji chewed on his lip, uncertain of how to react. Morinosuke continued to smile gently at him.

"I know my brother-in-law is not the friendliest of men, but both he and my sister are truly good people, and I sincerely hope that they can help you with the burden of your grief."

Eiji bowed his head, and was thinking about how to reply when Tokio entered the room.

"Eiji-san, I can show you to your room now."

"Thank you, Morinosuke-san," Eiji said quietly as he got up.

Morinosuke and Tokio both smiled at him in the same way, Eiji thought.

"I'm afraid that I have to ask you to share a room with our son, Tsutomu, for tonight. He's a good sleeper and doesn't cry, so I hope you won't be disturbed. He's taking a nap in the front room but I will introduce you when he wakes up." Tokio showed him upstairs. Eiji merely nodded in reply; the night before on the ship was the first that he had ever spent away from home. She steered him into a room at one end of the house. "I only had time to prepare a few sets of clothes for the time being, but we can sort that out over the coming days. You can put away your things in here." She indicated a chest of drawers, and Eiji fumbled to untie the traveling pack that was looped over his shoulder. He had only brought with him very few, small keepsakes from his home, and he was now acutely conscious of how little he had to his name.

"If there's anything you need, or anything on your mind, please don't hesitate to tell me. This is your home too now." Tokio bowed formally.

Eiji set down his things clumsily and looked around the tidy room. Everything was so different here, and the bitter lump rose in his throat again.

"Um, Tokio-san," he tried to swallow the lump. "Where did you put my sword?"

Tokio tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully.

"I placed it with the other swords in this house. Would you like to see it?"

"Yes, please." His voice cracked with emotion.

She led Eiji back downstairs to a room with a heavy, western style door. She turned the handle and pushed it open. The room was furnished with a large desk, and the walls were lined with shelves and cases and books, as well as several swords on their racks.

"This is the only room that is off-limits without either my husband or myself present," she said quietly but firmly. "My husband has a tendency to keep a few swords in the house, and bring home study materials every now and then, so I set up this room for him." Eiji could see his brother's sword had been given its own rack, on its own shelf. Despite the shattered blade, it was imbued with a certain dignity; Tokio had given it pride of place. He gazed at it for a while, feeling vulnerable without its comforting presence. Tokio, as though she read his mind, put her arm around his shoulder.

"You should not need to hold a blade to feel safe in this house. And we must find a proper sheathe for it."

Eiji looked up at the lady of the house, and nodded gravely.

"Thank you very much, Tokio-san." He imagined for an instant that his brother's spirit had accompanied him on this journey, to see him safely into this woman's hands.

She smiled approvingly at him. Just then, they heard Fujita's voice calling from the hall.

"The bathroom's free."

Tokio and Eiji looked at each other, and stepped out of the room. As Eiji turned, the figure in the corridor made him blink in confusion. Instead of Fujita, a small child was standing in front of them, with the unique bow-legged stance that toddlers had and a dogged expression on his face. Even in the dim light of the hall, Eiji could see the amber hue of the boy's bright eyes; there was no mistaking who the father was.

"Oh my, Tsutomu. Danna-sama, did you wake him up?" Tokio sounded amused, but she was carefully observing her son for signs of a tantrum.

"So what? He's not crying." The boy's father emerged suddenly from behind them, making them both jump a little.

"How selfish and irresponsible of you," Tokio shook her head at her husband, albeit with a twinkle in her eye. She knew that her husband had tried to startle her using their son as a distraction; his playfulness showed itself in some odd ways.

"Hmph. A son should greet his father when he comes home." Garbed in a yukata and with his hair not quite slicked back, Fujita Gorō seemed quite the different man. Eiji, who had been gawking at Tsutomu, now gawked at the parents.

"In that case, you should teach him how to greet guests also." Tokio reached out to Tsutomu, whose attention was riveted on Eiji. "Come, Tsutomu."

The small child shifted his focus from the stranger to his mother, and then to his father. With a look of fierce determination, he tottered quickly, a little unsteadily, towards them. Dodging his mother's hands, he flung himself against his father's leg.

"Well!" Tokio puckered her lips. "As soon as you come home, he pays no attention to his mother."

"Smart kid, he knows who brings home the pay." Fujita bent down to scoop up his son, and swung him up onto his shoulders. Tsutomu squealed in delight. "Tsutomu, this is Eiji. He'll be living here from now so play nice."

There was an oddly tense moment as Tsutomu and Eiji gauged each other. Eiji got the distinct impression that he was being judged (it did not help that the toddler was staring down at him from his new vantage point), but he was not about to let the infant gain the upper hand so easily. However, it was over in a matter of seconds as Tsutomu smiled gleefully at the older boy and smacked his father's head a few times.

"Stop that now," Fujita growled at his son, though he could not quite conceal the grin on his face. "Eiji, go take a bath before dinner." He began to walk towards the main room, Tsutomu still on his shoulders.

"This way, Eiji-san," Tokio ushered him along. "Aah! Mind his head-!" Tokio called out after her husband, who ducked at the last moment before entering the room, narrowly avoiding smacking his son's head against the beam. "Really! He does it just to make me nervous," she murmured half under her breath. She turned back to Eiji. "The bathroom is down the corridor, to the left. I've set out a change of clothes for you, and dinner will be served when you are done. Please, take your time."

Everything about the house was neat and clean, Eiji thought as he prepared to bathe. 'It's nice', he said to himself, 'to have a proper bathroom like this in your own house'. He gingerly tested the water temperature before throwing a bucket of hot water over himself. It was nice to be able to wash after a rough couple of days. On the other hand, it could not compare to the natural hot springs of Shingetsu-mura. That had been one thing that Senkaku had not been able to take away from the villagers. His heart wrenched in his chest, and he immersed his body into the tub, plunging his head under the surface. He remained submerged for as long as he could hold his breath. It was painful, he thought, to see this happy family. He knew that they had no intention of showing off, and that they had been most gracious to accept him into their home. However, the memories of his own parents and his own brother tore at his conscience. His cry was drowned in the water, a stream of bubbles escaping from his mouth. When he ran out of breath and came up for air, the water dripped down his face, down his chin, and back into the tub.

* * *

The sun had just dipped below the horizon when the Fujita family and their guests sat down to dinner. As exhausted as Eiji was, both physically and emotionally, the gurgling of his stomach when he smelled the food was proof that his body was still healthy and craved nourishment. Tokio chuckled as she placed his tray in front of him, his face red from the lingering heat of the bath and embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed, it's only natural." His mouth watered at the sight of the meal. "This soup is called 'kozuyu'. It's a traditional dish from my homeland, and it's full of nutritious things, but it's also light and easy on the stomach," Tokio explained courteously. "And you have the soba that we were talking about earlier. The fish is just mackerel stewed in miso, but oily fish is good for you when you're tired."

"Fujita-san really likes soba," Eiji declared as he remembered what the man had ordered for practically every meal on their journey together.

Morinosuke and Tokio both laughed at that.

"Ahou. What's so funny?" Fujita tsked and glowered at them.

Tokio shook her head mirthfully as she took her own place beside her husband. Tsutomu sat next to his mother; he had his own small tray with a small wooden spoon, which he was at the moment tapping against his forehead.

"Itadakimasu." The chorus went up, and their chopsticks began to move.

"Ane-ue, your kozuyu is delicious as always." Morinosuke savored the soup, which was to him and his older sister the taste of their childhood and happy memories. Tokio smiled at her brother as she helped her son with his food.

Eiji took a sip, and then a longer sip. He could taste the scallops, the mushrooms, the carrots, and everything else that had gone into it with such care. He felt very grateful to Tokio; she must have known that he could not have stomached anything too heavy or rich. The soup filled him but did not weigh him down. The soba was also easy to swallow and slightly fragrant, as fresh soba should be. Eiji noticed that the noodles on Fujita's tray were practically vanishing into thin air.

"Ani-ue, when will you be heading away again?" Eiji pricked up his ears at Morinosuke's question without stopping his chopsticks.

"I'm leaving first thing in the morning," came the short reply. "I'll be gone for a while."

"That's what he said three days ago," Tokio remarked. "Poor Kenjirō-san, he thought the coast was clear, but he ended up running aground."

"Tokio, those roses are stinking up the room. Throw them out."

"I think they're lovely, and you'll be gone again in the morning – I think I'll leave them as they are." Tokio smiled serenely at her husband. Eiji glanced at the peach-colored blooms that were exquisitely arranged in the tokonoma. He had to agree; they looked quite nice.

"Ani-ue, how do you like the sword?" Morinosuke interjected, changing the subject before they could start on Kenjirō's merits or lack thereof.

Fujita paused in his eating and looked at his brother-in-law.

"It's a good sword," he said with sincerity. "I'm glad to have it."

"That's a relief." He sounded happy, but there was a touch of wistfulness to Morinosuke's eyes. "Father would be glad."

Eiji looked from one man to the other, but asked no questions. His mind was too dulled to engage, and his senses too concentrated on the meal.

"Tokio," Fujita extended a hand holding a sake cup to Tokio.

"Just one flask tonight," she informed him, smoothly pouring him a drink.

Fujita looked at her as though to argue, and thought the better of it.

"Hey, am I to serve myself?" Morinosuke squinted at his flask. "Eiji-kun, can you help me out?" he asked the boy beside him.

Eiji swallowed the food he had in his mouth before taking the flask and obliging.

The rest of the meal passed in a similar, easygoing manner, with Morinosuke and Fujita both getting seconds. Eiji felt that he would have liked some more, but he was practically falling asleep after he had finished what was on his tray.

"Danna-sama brought back some 'first harvest' tea from Shizuoka." Tokio brought in the after-dinner tea, and she bowed gratefully to her husband. Eiji recalled that Fujita had stopped at a vendor before they had boarded the ship to Tokyo.

The smell of the tea made his mind lurch, and unbidden images of the tea fields around his home flashed before him. He was stricken, and for a few seconds, he felt dizzy. He had succeeded in putting thoughts of Shingetsu-mura out of his mind for a short while, but now the ache resumed.

"I'm sorry, may I be excused? I'm just so sleepy…." Eiji did not need to fake a yawn.

"Why, of course." Tokio looked at him with concern. "I'm sorry for keeping you up – you must be worn out. And Tsutomu needs to be put to bed too." The toddler had climbed onto his father's lap after he had eaten his fill (Tokio had tried to stop him, but Fujita had allowed it), and fallen asleep. "Please leave your tray, and let's get you to your room."

Inside the children's room, Tokio had already laid out the futons while Eiji was in the bath. He let out a long sigh as he crawled under the covers, watching Tokio as she tucked her son in. She then turned to Eiji, and made sure he was comfortable.

"Our room is just down the hall. Try to sleep easy; there is nothing to fear. Muku guards the house well – don't be alarmed if you hear her walking around – and my husband is also here tonight. Nothing can harm you."

Eiji gave her a small nod before closing his eyes. For the past two years of his young life, he had lived in fear of Shishio and Senkaku, never knowing when his fragile existence might come to an end. He had barely slept in the last two days, haunted by the images of his dead family. He did not protest when he felt her cool hand on his forehead, and her other hand holding one of his small, thin hands. He surrendered to exhaustion, and in very little time, he sank into a deep slumber. He did not stir when she got up to leave the room. For the first time since she had met him, the young boy looked at peace, Tokio thought as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

When Tokio returned downstairs, Morinosuke and Fujita were sitting on the engawa with their tea. Morinosuke was discussing the aftermath of Ōkubo Toshimichi's assassination. It had been less than a week since that fateful day, and she was well aware that the incident had precipitated her husband's departure on his latest assignment. Fujita hardly said a word as he listened to the younger man talk about the Ishikawa shizoku who had been arrested as the perpetrators of the crime.

"They show no remorse for their actions – that they have severely jeopardized the country's standing out of their selfish grievances! And they dare claim to uphold the samurai spirit!" Morinosuke was a member of the public prosecutor's office, and he and his colleagues had been working around the clock that week. Both in his professional capacity, and as a son of the samurai class himself, he was venting with particular vehemence.

"Itō Hirobumi will be taking over as Home Minister now, I heard. I presumed it would be Iwakura Tomomi." Fujita did not rate either of them on par with the deceased man.

"Iwakura Tomomi is a formidable politician, but he has always preferred to work behind the scenes. And to be honest, I don't care for him at all - he reminds me of a toad." Tokio joined in, having discerned that her husband was trying to divert the conversation away from the actual murder. Fujita suppressed a smirk, silently commending his wife both for having perceived his mind and for her apt description. As a major instigator of the Meiji Restoration, and the very man who had brought the Meiji Emperor over to Satsuma's side, it was one of Tokio's few biases that she held against the man.

"He's the one who prevented us from going to war with Korea. He redeemed himself a little in my eyes," Morinosuke reasoned.

"Yes, but he failed to convince his old friend Saigou, and look where that got us." Tokio sniffed disdainfully. Saigou Takamori, one of the three great statesmen of the Meiji Restoration, had fallen out with Ōkubo over the Korean Issue, and the Seinan War had erupted as a result. Fujita shifted slightly at the memory; he had been shot in the line of action during that war, and he had lost another of his closest friends and comrades.

Morinosuke conceded his sister's point, and proceeded to bring the conversation back to the assassination, about how the police had tracked down the alleged killers and how the prosecutors were proceeding to build their case. However, the stone cold expression on Fujita's face indicated that he was touching on a work-sensitive topic for his brother-in-law, and so Morinosuke nonchalantly changed the subject. Instead, they talked about how ridiculous Kenjirō looked in his latest get-up, and a new American invention called a 'telephone' that was purported to allow people to talk to each other over distances. Fujita was interested in how it might be utilized for police work, although he was skeptical that such a thing actually existed. Morinosuke had heard from Kenjirō that the university might obtain a working model, and promised to let his brother-in-law know when it did. As much as Fujita feigned dislike of his friend, Morinosuke knew that in fact both husband and wife found his antics quite entertaining.

When Tokio offered him another cup of tea, Morinosuke realized that it was almost eight o'clock. The weekend was nearly over, and the following day was a Monday. Fujita had told them that he had to leave first thing in the morning, and although he would never mention it, no doubt that he was keen on spending some time alone with Tokio.

"Ah, it's getting late so I'm going to head home." Morinosuke decided to excuse himself tactfully. Normally, they would tell him he was welcome to stay longer, or even stay the night, but not tonight.

"Sarunosuke, tell that fool Kenjirō not to bring stupid gifts to my wife any more. It gives her strange ideas," Fujita told him irately.

Morinosuke and Tokio caught each other's eye behind his back and stifled a laugh. Fujita only used his old nickname for his brother-in-law when he was joking. While Fujita was away on assignment, Morinosuke would come by almost on a daily basis to make sure his sister and nephew were well, and when he was busy, another close friend would visit instead. Although Fujita did not make a fuss over the arrangement, he was grateful for their support.

"I told him that he was welcome to bring me as many nice things as he wanted. Those 'biscuits' that he brought the last time were very good."

"They were disgustingly sweet." Fujita snorted in annoyance. "They don't go well with sake."

"Ah, but they would go quite nicely with tea, don't you think? And thank you very much again for the tea. It is very delicious." Tokio looked up at her husband with a playful smile.

"Better than roses?" Fujita glared at her.

"Much more to my tastes," Tokio inclined her head.

"And I'm off, before this flirting gets more uncomfortable." Morinosuke coughed and stood up. "No, there's no need to see me out. I can lock up the gates behind me." He prevented them from getting up for his sake. "Ani-ue, take care of yourself please, and take care of Father's sword. Ane-ue, thank you for dinner - the kozuyu was excellent. I'll see you later this week."

Taking his leave, Morinosuke shut the door behind him. Muku ran around from the back to the front gate to see him off.

"He's right," Fujita stated after they heard the heavy clunk of the gates closing, "about your kozuyu." As always, he added to himself. Tokio blushed with pleasure. Even after four years of marriage, the simplest words of praise from her husband could cause her heart to flutter wildly. However, her reply was,

"You probably preferred Futaba-san's soba." One thing they had in common was that they both liked to tease each other.

"Ahou." He reached for a cigarette, and Tokio moved closer, lighting up a match for him.

"That's the last one for today, please." As she dropped the spent match into the ashtray, he caught her wrist and drew her into his arms.

They watched the smoke drift up into the night sky. It was a mild May night, and the streets about them were quiet. Further in the distance, they could hear the hum of the city, but looking out onto their garden, they built their own world around them. Blue irises bloomed in one corner, and a cat miaowed somewhere, causing Muku to prick up her ears and go investigate.

"About Eiji," he spoke after finishing his cigarette, "I couldn't just leave him there."

"Please, I am glad to do what I can to help." She laid her head against his chest.

"His brother was one of my better subordinates." Although others might think of Fujita as a callous, uncaring man, his wife knew that this was far from the truth. "And the boy showed an admirable courage." Not many ten year olds would have had the guts to face down Senkaku and Shishio under those circumstances.

"He seems a brave child. I am so sorry for his loss." She entwined her fingers through his. "May I ask what happened?"

Tokio understood him better than anyone else in the world, and she was the only one outside of the police force that he would discuss his work with. On occasion, her insight had proven invaluable to him. Of course, he never divulged the full details of his missions (that would unnecessarily increase the risks to her), but she needed to know enough to be aware of the dangers surrounding their lives.

He had departed only a few days ago, warning her to be extra cautious and telling her frankly that he had no idea when he would be done. She had been prepared, and had seen him off with a warm, confident smile and an unshakeable faith that he would return safely to her side. Nevertheless, there was no avoiding the fact that she still worried about him day and night. The recent series of assignments were the most dangerous that he had ever taken on; first with the investigation into Himura Battousai (that news had shaken her to the core), and now this Shishio Makoto, a megalomaniacal madman who threatened the very existence of the country. For all that she worried, she resolutely did her best not to give her husband cause for concern about her or their son. She would look after her own end, and would always provide a safe haven for him to come home to. She also had Muku; he had seen to it that theirs was one of the best trained dogs in the entire country. And they were not alone; her brother watched out for her, and their friends the Yamakawas too, and while he was still alive, Sagawa Kanbei had taken good care of them. Every day, police officers from the local precinct (who had been vetted by her husband) patrolled the neighborhood. Even her former mistress, Matsudaira Teru, had made it abundantly clear that Tokio and Tsutomu could seek refuge with her at any given time. (Fujita had bristled at the insinuation that Tokio might want to seek refuge from _him_, but Teru had a habit of needling her favorite attendant's husband. Tokio had laughed and even thanked the noblewoman for her consideration, much to her husband's annoyance.)

In a clinical manner, he narrated the events that had taken place at Shingetsu-mura. She listened, quietly horrified at the fresh details he provided – of how Eiji's brother had died shielding the boy, of how Eiji had found his parents and dug their graves himself, of how he had tried to kill the monstrous brute responsible for the death of his family. Her hands clenched in his grasp as he relayed the outcome of the match between Himura Battousai and Shishio Makoto's right-hand man.

"His sword broke?" She narrowed her eyes in consternation. The sakabatou had after all destroyed her husband's own trusty weapon. "So what will he do now?"

She had been incredulous at first when her husband had informed her that the 'Hitokiri Battousai', who had been the scourge of the Bakufu, was now living the life of a 'rurouni' and had taken a vow never to kill again. For reasons of her past, Tokio had strong, conflicted feelings about Himura Kenshin. Yet, the more she reflected on his decision, the easier it had been to reconcile her personal impressions of the man with the terror that he had inspired. She recalled a fleeting moment from a long time ago, a memory of snow and scarlet.

_"You should never have joined the Ishin-shishi as an assassin. You care too much and you think too deeply."_

Her husband, though, was less accepting of Himura Kenshin's current existence.

"I told him that his power as a 'rurouni' was useless against Shishio Makoto. That bout made it starkly clear that he needs to regain the strength he had as the 'Hitokiri Battousai'." Saitou was doubtful that Himura would be able to find another sakabatou in the near future, and it would have to be a superior sword at that.

"But that might not do him any good..." Tokio spoke pensively. "If he is sincere in his convictions, trying to force him to revert to his former self will do more harm than good. A sword that wavers is a sword that fails, and he already stands on a precarious brink." She could only imagine how incredibly difficult it was to fight against a deadly opponent, holding back just enough so as not to kill while avoiding being killed himself. His recent duel with her husband was proof enough of that; at the end, he had been serious when he said he would kill his former enemy. "What he lacks in himself to stand fast cannot be as obvious as mere killing intent..." If Himura Kenshin were to fall, the dangers to her husband would increase manifold. "A reluctant heart will betray itself, and those around it."

"Hmph. You're a mouthy woman." He pinched her cheek lightly and she made a face as she tried to pull away.

"Forgive me, I know I'm simply pointing out the obvious," she rubbed her cheek as he let go, but the truth was, he always took her opinion into account.

"Well, you're not wrong." He almost seemed to sigh. "But I just don't believe that people can change so easily..."

The man formerly known as Saitou Hajime closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Tokio was staring at him intently, as though her deep, dark gaze could penetrate to the depths of his soul. He smirked at her, and his lips lightly caressed hers.

"Are you worried about me?" He asked as he broke the kiss.

"I always worry about you, Hajime-sama." She only called him 'Hajime' when they were alone. "But more than that, I believe in you." Even after all these years, he found her utterly beguiling when she smiled at him like that.

"It's not a bad feeling, to be worried about and missed by you," he jested.

"Which is why, I suppose, you insist on gallivanting around the country." She sighed resignedly. "And no more cigarettes." She tried to grab the pack from his hand as he reached to take another one out.

"This will be the last one," he caught both her hands in one of his and touched his forehead against hers. Inwardly, Tokio berated herself for giving in so easily, but she could never find it within herself to refuse her husband when he looked at her like that. 'It's those amber eyes,' she yielded ruefully.

In honesty, if it were allowed, if it were possible, he would return home every night to her and their son. He could easily have entrusted Eiji to another agent to bring to Tokyo, but instead had taken the responsibility upon himself. It was in part due to his desire for privacy (the less people who knew about his family affairs, the better), and it was in part due to the fact that he felt it was his duty to make sure matters were dealt with properly, out of respect both for his deceased subordinate and for his wife. However, another, irrefutable reason was that since he had figured that it would take another while for Himura to reach Kyoto, he had decided that he could afford the time to spend with his family.

"The Battousai and the weasel girl were shocked to find out I was married." He knew that she would find it amusing.

"Fu-fu," she chuckled. "You teased them on purpose, didn't you?" He could have not told them where he was taking Eiji, but she knew that he had not been able to resist having some fun at their expense.

"I told them that you were a capable woman." Coming from him, it was the highest of accolades, and the color rose charmingly to his wife's cheeks. "They said that you must be a Bodhisattva to put up with me."

At that, she hid her mouth behind her sleeve as she laughed.

"How well they must know you!" she nudged him. Her husband had a knack for rousing people's antipathy, and she had been on occasion the subject of unsolicited sympathy for being married to him.

"Ahou. If you actually were a Bodhisattva, you'd help me get rid of my earthly desires, not inspire them." He pressed her closer to him with a wicked grin, expecting her to withdraw bashfully.

"And where would the fun be in that, Hajime-sama? I quite enjoy your earthly desires..." Instead, she laughed again and taunted him back, and he almost choked on his cigarette.

He was glad to be home – a peaceful interlude in the midst of turbulence. It was just one more day, but that day meant so much to them all – to him, his wife, his son, and to the orphan boy that needed comfort and care. It was just one more night, but it reaffirmed his existence, his commitment, and his reason for fighting as hard as he could to maintain the peacefulness of their lives. He would have to leave again in a few hours, but those hours would be spent with the woman who loved him, and whose love sustained him throughout all his dark battles.

* * *

Eiji awoke in a dreadful sweat in the middle of the night. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and he felt paralyzed with fear as his eyes darted around the unfamiliar room. For a moment, he believed that he was still being pursued by Senkaku, with his brother shielding him from those awful blades. The sweat on his brow and his palms made him feel like he was slick with blood. Although it only took a few seconds to remember where he was, the sheer dread of those moments trapped him in his nightmare. He looked around, and he could barely make out the small body sleeping in the futon next to his. He managed to bring his breathing under control, but he could not stop his tears. He missed his family, and he would never see them again. Even living under the dreadful rule of Shishio and Senkaku, his parents had tried to protect him, and they at least had been together. His brother had been away for several years, but when he had realized what was happening to the village, he had assured them that his superior was on the case, and that he was the best man in all of Japan for the job. But things had gone terribly wrong, and Fujita Gorō, or Saitou, or whoever he really was, he had come too late.

He seized up as he heard a shuffling outside the door. He remained still as he heard the scrabble of nails on the wooden boards, and then something pushed open the screen. 'Ah, Muku,' he squirmed as he felt the dog licking his cheek. He covered his face with his hands as he giggled quietly, and she lay down next to him. He wondered at this animal – it was the second time she had tried to comfort him when he was crying. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and began to stroke her fur. She was very soft, and she was warm, and she was a reassuring presence in the darkness of the night. She licked his hand now and again, as though encouraging him to continue petting her, and the terror of his dreams released their grip.

_"This is a safe place." _

Tokio had reassured him, and he did not doubt it. A man like Fujita would never leave his home unprotected. It had been a revelation coming here, and he pondered his situation. His initial image of his guardian had changed over the course of one day. Fujita Gorō was not a 'nice' man, not in the way Himura Kenshin had been, but Fujita Gorō must be a good man. It had been difficult to picture his family life while they had traveled, since he appeared so taciturn and grim, but here in his own home, he was a husband and father like any other. Fujita Gorō must be a good man, if a woman like Tokio was happy with him. Eiji trusted Tokio intuitively; there was a serenity about her that calmed him, and she had a gentle, stabilizing influence on those around her. Even though she treated her husband with due deference, he could tell that she was the one who kept this household strong. Not to mention, she was quite possibly the loveliest woman he had ever seen. And then, there was Muku, who was diligently protecting her house and her pack. The dog intrigued him immensely, and she had already won a place in his heart. This was a safe, warm place, and he could prevail against his demons here.

He began to feel his eyelids drooping, and he wrapped his arms around the dog's neck. In time, he was breathing softly again, having relapsed into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next time Eiji awoke, Muku was scampering up and out of his arms. He rubbed his eyes blearily; the faint light seeping in from the window screens indicated that it was just around dawn. He glanced at the sleeping face of Tsutomu, and grinned when he saw the puddle of drool on his pillow. Eiji got up as quietly as he could, and went out after the dog. As he reached the top of the stairs, he froze as he realized that he was not the only one who was awake. Peering down to the genkan, he could see that Fujita was putting on his shoes. When he stood back up, Tokio handed him his sword, and he clipped it to his belt. They remained still, looking at each other for a long moment, and then Tokio wound her arms around him and nestled her head against his chest. Eiji inhaled sharply, as he watched Fujita tilt her chin up, and press his lips to her forehead. He felt mortified that he had intruded on their privacy, but just as he was about to sneak away, Fujita called out,

"It's bad manners to be creeping around, peeking at people." Eiji almost leapt out of his skin. "At least have the decency to cover your eyes."

Tokio hastily pulled away from her husband, her face a bright crimson to match Eiji's.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to – I was looking for Muku…." Eiji's voice trailed off as he saw the dog, wagging her tail gleefully beside her mistress.

"Well, it's alright," Tokio reassured him, recovering her composure. "Would you like to come downstairs to see him off?"

"Yes," Eiji answered politely, although to be honest, he wished that he could crawl back to his bed in shame. He kept his gaze firmly on his feet as he went down the stairs. "Um, well, please take care." He was afraid to meet Fujita's eyes.

"Eiji, look up when you're talking to someone." Fujita said sternly. Eiji reluctantly did so, and was surprised to see that the man seemed amused rather than angry. "Do your best to settle in here. Listen to what Tokio says, and you'll be fine. She's strict, but she'll take good care of you."

"Yes sir," Eiji replied more confidently this time.

"Muku, you know what you have to do," the man gave the dog a quick scratch around the ears, and pulled on his gloves.

He saw that Tokio had picked up her hiuchi-gane and firestone, ready to perform kiribi. She saw him frown, and she smiled - it was part of a ritual now, wherein he would pretend to disdain the superstition, and she would respond that it was not the superstition but the thought that counted.

"Come home safe," her voice was low but very clear.

"Ah..." He nodded at his wife. "Ittekuru."

"Itterasshaimase, Danna-sama." When she smiled at her husband, Fujita Tokio was definitely a very pretty lady, Eiji thought, no matter how old she was.

She deftly struck the sparks from the stone as he opened the door, an age-old ritual to ward off evil for those leaving on dangerous work.

"Ah! Don't forget your hat!" She picked it up from where he had left it on the entrance shelf and hurried after him.

"I don't need it," he called back, leaving it in her hands.

She remained by the door as she watched him walk down the front path. The fingers gripping his hat belied the composed expression on her face. Muku accompanied him as far as the gate, then barked once after him and ran back to the house. The police officer raised his hand in one last greeting as he disappeared from view. Tokio did not move for a few moments more, letting out an almost silent sigh as she came back inside.

"Good morning, Eiji-san," she greeted the boy properly now.

"Good morning, Tokio-san." She smiled at him, and he relaxed. Even if Fujita said that his wife was strict, she was also very kind.

"Did you sleep well?" She searched his face for signs of fatigue.

"I woke up once because of a bad dream," Eiji told her honestly, "but then Muku came in and I fell back asleep."

Tokio chuckled softly.

"She's a good dog, isn't she?" Eiji nodded in reply. "It's a little early, but breakfast is ready. Why don't you go change and wash your face, and then join me in the kitchen."

Breakfast was a simple affair: rice, miso soup, some pickles and leftover fish from the previous night. They ate quietly, and Tokio seemed pleased that Eiji finished all of his food. She knew from personal experience the physical toll that grieving could take, and she was relieved that at least the boy had a healthy appetite. Children were resilient, she reminded herself, and she would do the best she could to assist his recovery.

As they cleared up, Tokio asked Eiji if he would mind helping her with the morning chores.

"I'm used to morning chores," Eiji offered helpfully. In a farming community, there was no such thing as a day of rest.

"In the afternoon, I want to take your brother's sword to the smith, to see whether there is anything that can be done for it. And we should also go to the temple to arrange a ceremony for your family."

Eiji looked at her with a worried expression.

"Tokio-san, I'm sorry, I don't have any money, so I don't think I can do that…."

Tokio looked into his eyes and said softly,

"My husband made sure that you would receive compensation from the government for your brother's work, so you needn't worry about money. In any case, it's the least I could do, to make sure that proper prayers are offered for your parents and brother."

There had been no way to perform a funeral for the Mishimas in Shingetsu-mura, and it had troubled Eiji. Again, he felt as though Tokio had lifted a burden off his shoulders.

"Thank you very much," he bowed with profound gratitude.

"You're most welcome," she bowed in return.

"Tokio-san, may I ask…." Eiji hesitated for a moment, but plucked up the nerve to continue. "Who are you, and who is Fujita-san?" They were an unusual couple, unlike anybody else he knew, and they had unusual guests, and an unusual dog, and everything about them struck him as extraordinary.

"Did my husband tell you anything?" She tilted her head and looked at him inquisitively.

"No, not really. I know that for some reason, other people call him Saitou, and Morinosuke-san told me yesterday that you were from Aizu."

She did not answer him straight away, weighing his question in her mind. Wordlessly, she washed the dishes and handed them to him to dry. By the time they finished, Eiji was feeling remorseful for his prying. He watched as Tokio prepared some tea, but instead of serving them, she set the cups on a tray. She also placed on it a small vase with a single rose that had decorated the kitchen table.

"Come with me, Eiji-san." Tokio motioned for him to follow, and he saw that they were heading to the front room.

Eiji observed as she knelt gracefully before the family altar. She carefully placed the tea and the vase in front of the spirit tablets. The tablets must be for her deceased family, he guessed correctly. She lit the candles, then some incense, and she put her hands together in prayer and bowed. Eiji knelt behind her and bowed his head out of respect also.

"Eiji-san," Tokio spoke after a while, "what do you know of Aizu, and the Shinsengumi?"

"Not very much." Eiji furrowed his brow. "Just that they lost the Boshin War."

Tokio turned around and faced him. She looked at him so wistfully, and it resonated within his heart.

"Well, that's true. I hope you won't mind listening to an old story, Eiji-san…." She drew a breath and began her tale. "Over fifteen years ago, the Aizu-han were charged under the Tokugawa Shogunate with the protection of law and order in Kyoto. We were chosen because our lord, Matsudaira Katamori, shared a deep, mutual respect with Emperor Komei, and because the Tokugawa knew just how loyal and dedicated the people of Aizu were to their duty."

"So how come you ended up being Imperial Enemies?" Eiji asked without any malice, but he noticed that Tokio winced.

"Because we lost in the political battle, and then we lost the war." Tokio paused, her eyes downcast. "History is written by the victors, you see, and the victors need villains. In reality, we were all merely trying to do our best for the country." She raised her head proudly. Eiji nodded; although he did not understand what the 'political battle' was, he grasped what she was saying.

"My father was an Oo-metsuke-yaku under the Aizu-kou. He used to have an estate worth three hundred koku. I also worked at the court as a scribe." Eiji's jaw dropped - although he had already guessed that she was a samurai woman, he had not imagined that she was so highborn. He sat up straighter, and gave her the most formal bow he could manage. "Please, be at ease," she chuckled as she realized how nervous he had just become. "I am merely the simple housewife of a police officer now."

"Does Fujita-san know?" He asked bemusedly. He could not fathom why a lady like her was married to a regular civil servant, no matter how her circumstances had changed.

"Well, yes." The corners of her lips twitched; she was enjoying Eiji's interest in her story. "I am going to tell you a family secret that must not go beyond these walls." Eiji nodded to show that he understood. "My husband was formerly known as Saitou Hajime, the Third Captain of the Shinsengumi." Eiji's jaw dropped open again. The Shinsengumi's reputation was infamous, as the fiercest, strongest group of swordsmen who had fought during the Bakumatsu, and he knew that they had been the Ishin-Shishi's arch-nemeses. "The Shinsengumi worked under the authority of Aizu in Kyoto, to protect the city. They fought for Aizu during the Boshin War, and my husband stayed with my people even after our defeat. The people of Aizu consider him a war hero, but he left that name behind on the battlefield." A shadow flickered over Tokio's face.

'It must be a very sad memory,' Eiji thought. She pursed her lips briefly before continuing.

"Eiji-san, we were powerless after the war, and we lived in poverty. No food, no homes, no money. The Meiji Government would not allow us to bury our war dead, so we tried to do it in secret. Those who were caught were sentenced to death themselves." She stopped as she saw the look of horror on the young boy's face. There was no need to go into it in such detail, she chastised herself, but at least now he knew that he was not the only one who had had to dig makeshift graves for those he loved. "Everything was taken away from us, and we were exiled to the far north, where nothing grew in the barren soil, and the winters were very long and harsh." He now knew that he was not the only one who had been forced from his home with nothing to his name. He was not alone in his suffering.

"Did you… Did you ever want to take revenge?" Eiji asked in a weak voice. He felt the rage swelling up again as he thought about Senkaku.

"Eiji-san, do you know why my husband stopped you from killing that man?" Tokio looked sorrowfully at the young boy who had experienced too much and had so much yet to learn.

"He said it was because it would interfere with his work, and because it was against the law." That was what Fujita had told him.

"But that is not all, is it?" Eiji flushed, remembering Himura's words. "When you take another person's life, you take away everything that person has ever had, was ever going to have, all the bonds and ties they ever forged – and you take all of that burden upon yourself. One must be very strong and have a will of iron to bear that immense weight. No matter that that life might have belonged to the worst kind of criminal, the burden could end up crushing oneself. Nobody would have benefited from you soiling your hands, and you would still suffer for it."

"Fujita-san, has he killed people?" Eiji mumbled his question, feeling unsettled.

"Yes…." Tokio sighed. "And when he stands before the judgment of Enma, I will be at his side to defend his soul." She bowed her head. Her husband's ruthlessness as it pertained to his work was not without good reason, and she had accepted it many years ago. They both shared the strength of his convictions, and he would never tolerate leaving loose ends that could come back and threaten his family's hard-won peace. "That is why I pray every day for the peaceful rest of those departed, for his safety, and for my own peace of mind. It is why we must try to live each day as best as we can, so that we must not be ashamed."

"I…. I feel guilty, Tokio-san." Eiji confessed in a breathless whisper. "I feel guilty that my brother died protecting me, and that my parents died because of us. Why didn't I die with them?" His voice trailed off into a whisper, and he bowed his head, trying to hide the tears that spilled.

Tokio placed a hand on his shoulder, and bade him look at her.

"Eiji-san, my husband and I, we have lost so many people who were most dear to us over the years. And yet, we dare to be happy now. Our happiness is built on all the sacrifices that they had to make, and we will not dishonor them by wasting away in regret. Those people whom we truly cared for, and who truly cared for us – there is not a single one who would begrudge us the right to live well, now that we have survived. Do you think your parents and brother are any different?"

"Himura-san said the same thing…." Eiji wiped his eyes, and did not see the fleeting misgiving on Tokio's face at the mention of that name.

"We can only pray that they rest in peace, and that they will watch over us," she said in a soft voice. "Give yourself time to mourn, and carry yourself gently. But remember, while we live, we all have the right to happiness." Tokio handed him a handkerchief from her sleeve, and Eiji blew his nose. "Now, shall we have some tea, and get on with our day?"

Eiji returned her smile and nodded. Just then, they heard the energetic cries of a young child, and Muku barked. Tsutomu had woken up. They both hurried upstairs, and as Tokio changed her son out of his nightclothes, Eiji folded up the futons and tidied them away. When he opened up the window screens as directed, the view took his breath away. Far off in the distance, beyond the sprawling tapestry of the city, an unmistakeable, familiar sight rose above the horizon. Tokio glanced up to see what he was looking at.

"It's not bad, is it? On clear days, you can see Mount Fuji."

Eiji nodded wordlessly, feeling a little surer of his new place in the world. His wounds would not heal in one day, but they would gradually heal every day. He looked back towards the mountain, to where his old home lay, to where the graves of his family were - and he was grateful to be alive.

* * *

The man formerly known as Saitou Hajime grimaced at the report in his hand. Professional interrogators had been working on Senkaku over the weekend, but so far had little to show for their efforts. It had nothing to do with Senkaku's resistance – the brute was a coward at heart and they had barely applied the screws before he started blabbing – but rather that Shishio Makoto had not trusted his henchman with any crucial details of his operations beyond Shingetsu-mura. It seemed that he would have to capture one of the so-called Juppongatana in order to find out the crux of Shishio's plans for domination.

He lit up a cigarette and contemplated his next move. The Battousai should be arriving in Kyoto over the next few days, with the Makimachi girl. He glanced at the report on her; he had been somewhat surprised when he discovered that she was one of the last remnants of the Kyoto Oniwabanshuu, but it cleared up a few questions. Government spies were tracking their movements, and it seemed that for now, Shishio's minions were laying low.

'So he really does intend to wait for us in Kyoto.' He mulled it over as he took a long drag of the tobacco. There were so many memories in that city – difficult, important memories – and though he was not one to dwell on idle daydreams, he mused about what it would be like if his old comrades were still alive. Like it had been back then, all those years ago, the first objective of his current assignment was to protect Kyoto from the terrorists that threatened the country's foundations. Back then, history had not been on their side, but he did not consider it a failure of their mission. He inhaled sharply. Now, more than ever in his career, his success could determine the future course of the nation. Absentmindedly, he fingered the inner pocket of his jacket, where he kept his cigarette box. Tucked away inside was an omamori that Tokio had given him, onto which she had embroidered the Shinsengumi symbol, 'Makoto'. He had scoffed at her sentimentality when she had presented it to him during the first days of their marriage, but in actuality, when he was in uniform, it was always on his person.

He had made her a promise to always return to her side, and he had made a promise on the graves of his fallen comrades that he would continue to uphold their justice of 'Aku Soku Zan'. He had also made a promise to a grief-stricken boy that he would defeat Shishio Makoto. He would keep his word, even if it that entailed partnering with his one-time deadliest foe. Stubbing out his cigarette into the ashtray, he recommenced making arrangements for his operations in Kyoto. For all the dangers that this mission posed to him, he did not deny that he thrilled at the prospect of battle. With Himura Battousai, and Shishio Makoto, it was promising to be a most interesting case, and he did not deny that he was enjoying himself.

* * *

#######

* * *

**Author's Notes: 2012 Ruroken Renaissance! Spread the Love! **

**Please see tumblr site for pictures and historical/cultural notes: details on profile page  
**I beg your pardon as I went a little bit overboard with the research (again). Because of the length of the footnotes, I have posted the historical/cultural annotations accompanied by photos to tumblr. There are photos of Numazu and Mount Fuji, police stations, Akita dogs, kozuyu, Tokyo University and more. **Eeni's doujinshi of "The Courtship of Lady Tokio" is also featured there: Chapter 2 is now up!** And I am always happy to take questions if I've failed to address them.

Readers might think it's an odd place in the manga timeline to begin this story, but I thought it would be interesting to introduce the Fujita family from a kind of 'everyman' point of view - Eiji was the perfect character to do so. I've often wondered what his life might be like after Shingetsu-mura; surely he must have been traumatized (see Watsuki's character notes in volume 9). Taking in a foster child is a huge responsibility, but I have no doubt that Tokio is up to the task.

I do intend to address the pertinent events of Saitou's life from the end of my previous work to Meiji 11, including his participation in the Boshin War, the birth of Tsutomu, the initial assignment of his Kyoto mission (so many gaps to be filled, such as where did he get his new sword after his broke in the fight against Kenshin) etc - as well as include flashbacks to his Shinsengumi years. I ask readers to bear with me - there are a few teasers in this chapter that I would like to expand upon later.

I fervently hope that people enjoyed the portrayal of the Fujita family. Saitou in a yukata with his hair wet and slightly mussy? Waking up Tsutomu from his nap, risking a tantrum? Giving his son a shoulder ride? Does Saitou not like to wear his police officer's hat because it pushes his hair into his eyes? It was completely self-indulgent of me to include those, I admit. Also, I felt so sorry for Kenshin that his son Kenji didn't seem to like him very much. Hence, Tsutomu adores his father (children tend to like tall people who can pick them up and put them on their shoulders, yes?).

As always, I would be most grateful for any comments or criticisms: I get so excited when people tell me they are fans of Saitou x Tokio too. Thank you very much in advance for your kind consideration and your patience! I look forward to hearing from you!

**Timeline: **I calculated around the key date, "May 14th" - which fell on a Tuesday in 1878 - and came up with the following. It took Kenshin 3 days to reach Numazu/Shingetsu-mura. So, presuming that the events of Shingetsu-mura took place either on a Friday or Saturday, I thought Saitou should arrive back in Tokyo on the Sunday. Saitou was still stalking around Tokyo two days after Kenshin departed for Kyoto (running into Sano and Yahiko, Megumi and Aoshi etc), and the only way he could have gotten to Shingetsu-mura that fast was to take a ship. It stands to reason that he would take a ship back to Tokyo.

**Japanese Phrases: **

Bunmei Kaika: Readers may have come across this term in RK, but it literally means 'civilization and enlightenment', and denoted the westernization of Japan after the Meiji Restoration. See notes on tumblr for more details.

Danna-sama: literally means 'master', 'man of the house, 'patron', 'boss'. It's the most likely way that Tokio would have addressed her husband, given her social class and the times. There are other instances of it being used in the manga: Saitou refers to his boss Kawaji as 'danna' for example.

Okaerinasai-mase: Formal version of 'okaerinasai', which has no equivalent English phrase but translates closest to 'welcome home'.

Yoroshiku onegai shimasu: another phrase with no equivalent English phrase, but means roughly 'I will be in your care', or 'please look after this'. Standard greeting when meeting somebody for the first time, especially somebody you'll be working/living with, or when you are asking somebody to do something on your behalf.

Ittekuru: less formal version of 'ittekimasu' (somehow I couldn't picture Saitou using 'keigo' or formal speech to his wife), which translates roughly to 'I'm going now'. It's only good manners to say this to members of your household before heading out to work, to school, on a journey, an errand etc.

Itterasshai-mase: Formal version of 'itterasshai', said in reply to 'ittekimasu', how you would see off a member of your household.

Ani-ue, Ane-ue: Formal terms for 'older brother' and 'older sister' back in the day. It's considered archaic now. 'Sarunosuke' effectively means 'Monkey Boy', and is Saitou's nickname for Morinosuke from CLT.

##################


	3. Chapter 2 - Shinsengumi Captain in Meiji

_Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is a fictionalized account based in part on historical facts._

**MEIJI KEIKAN ROMANTAN **

* * *

**Chapter 2 – A Shinsengumi Captain of the Meiji Era **

_* _**There are various flashbacks and scene changes in this chapter. Apologies for any confusion, but the dates and places are labeled at the beginning of each section. **

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), late May – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward =

It was unusual, thought Mishima Eiji, to see his foster mother lost in daydreams. Fujita Tokio was seated on the engawa, the screen doors to the main room open to the bright, early summer day. She had been arranging the blue irises that she had picked from the garden, but once she had settled on the design, she had lapsed into deep contemplation. For the last while, she resembled a statue as she stared at the finished display with unfocused eyes.

In the back courtyard, Eiji picked up the spinning top that he was playing with and rewound the rope around its stem. Tsutomu, seated beside his mother, gurgled happily as Eiji whipped the toy into action. He deftly used the rope to make the top jump onto the palm of his hand without losing its momentum, causing the toddler to bounce with excitement. The older boy looked at Tokio again, hoping she had seen his trick. He frowned when he saw that she was still preoccupied by something that only she could see. It was already mid-morning and they were supposed to begin their lessons – she was normally a stickler for time.

"Tokio-san," he called out to her with a mix of unease and impatience.

"Oh, I'm sorry…. My mind was elsewhere." She blinked rapidly as she was brought out of her trance. She placed the ikebana in the tokonoma and stood back a few paces to assess her handiwork. Satisfied with the result, she smiled at Eiji. "Thank you for waiting, we'll begin in just a moment."

Eiji handed the spinning top to Tsutomu, who babbled his delight, and stepped inside the house. He glanced up at his guardian, trying to guess what she had been thinking about. When he saw her bite her lower lip with a wistful look, he presumed that she was anxious about her husband.

"You shouldn't worry so much," Eiji stated. Tokio tilted her head questioningly at his words. "Fujita-san will be alright. Himura-san is with him, and he's very strong."

Almost a week had passed since he had arrived in Tokyo and Eiji had started to regain some of his natural boldness. He had always been a spirited, forthright child, and having perceived this, Tokio encouraged him to speak his mind. At times, however, his straight talk could backfire. Tokio gave a small chuckle at his attempt to reassure her, although she appreciated the sentiment.

"Eiji-san, thank you for your concern, but I'll have you know that my husband is second to none as a swordsman." She cleared away the discarded leaves and bits of stalk, wrapping them in waste paper. "Indeed, he's the one cleaning up the mess that Ishin-Shishi like Himura Battousai left behind," she added archly.

"Ah I didn't mean anything against Fujita-san," Eiji hastened to make clear, turning red. "I just meant that he's got strong allies."

"It's alright, I know you meant no offense." Tokio smiled at him again. "I'm just a little touchy when it comes to his pride."

"Well, you shouldn't worry so much," Eiji repeated with an impish air. "You'll get frown lines."

"My, aren't you a cheeky one today!" Despite Tokio's chiding, she was glad to see that Eiji was recovering his spirits. "And I'll have you know, I wasn't thinking about my husband." At least, not directly, she told herself. "I was actually thinking that I need to go to Itabashi over the next couple of days. It's far though, over an hour by foot, and I'm not sure that you would care to accompany me."

"I'd like to go – I don't mind walking and it's interesting to see new places," Eiji replied.

Everything about Tokyo was fascinating to him. So far, Tokio had taken him to the University of Tokyo, to Ueno Park, and to Asakusa Sensōji. That was where she had bought him the spinning top, in one of the shops that lined the streets from the Kaminari-mon to the popular temple. The hustle and bustle of the city and down-to-earth vitality of the 'Edokko' made him feel as though every day was a festival.

He was settling into life at the Fujita household day by day. He still suffered from nightmares and the haunted look in his eyes never quite disappeared, but when he saw something new and interesting, his face lit up in the same way as any boy his age. He played patiently with Tsutomu and had developed a fast bond with the dog, Muku. He helped with chores around the house (Tokio was a fastidious woman and liked to have things just so), and he was also studying daily under her careful tutelage. The woman was strict about certain things: cleanliness, orderliness, and education. She had probed Eiji about his past schooling; he had told her that there were no teachers in his village and that he had been prevented from attending classes in Numazu for the past two years. He needed to be tutored before he could join the local school. Eiji had been taken aback by how earnest she was about the matter – after all, he was just the son of a farmer.

"_Eiji-san, the son of a farmer became one of the greatest samurai in the country. Do not sell yourself short." _

"_It's important to be strong, but it's more important to be smart. Look at Kenjirō-san – why, a decade ago, the people of Aizu were disgraced and humiliated, but through his efforts and dedication, he now has a prestigious position such that nobody would look down on him." _

Yamakawa Kenjirō was not the only example she cited; it seemed she had a friend in Kyoto, Yamamoto Yae, who had helped her husband found a university there, and a cousin of hers, Takamine Hideo, was currently studying abroad in the United States of America. Eiji acquiesced and he did not complain, and in fact he was grateful for the time and effort that she was putting into teaching him. For Tokio's part, it was obvious that Eiji was a smart child, with sharp wits and a quick grasp of new information. For this reason, she was determined to push him, so that he might have a better chance at life than his unhappy past would indicate.

As he set out his abacus (they always began with arithmetic), he asked Tokio,

"Why are we going to Itabashi?"

The wistful look returned to Tokio's eyes and she bowed her head slightly.

"I will be tending the grave of Commander Kondō Isami of the Shinsengumi." Eiji's eyes widened and his mouth opened in surprise. "He was executed at Itabashi ten years ago this month, but it was only two years ago that some of the former members were able to build a proper grave for him." Eiji nodded, at a loss for what to say; it was not an answer that he could have anticipated. "You don't have to come with me…." Tokio added gently, aware that the boy might be discomfited.

"No…. I'd rather go," Eiji replied firmly. 'Tokio-san shouldn't have to go on her own,' he thought to himself. "And maybe you can teach me more about the Shinsengumi?" Ever since he had learned about Fujita Gorō's identity, he had been curious about the man's past. It would afford him a natural opportunity to find out more without appearing too nosy.

"I'd be happy to tell you their story," Tokio seemed genuinely pleased at his interest, "but now, we must concentrate on your studies. Your abacus skills are coming along well but your writing needs a little more practice."

Eiji sat down obediently in front of the desk and diligently applied himself to the day's lessons. In a way, it was therapeutic: every time he arrived at the correct answer to a problem, he felt a sense of accomplishment, and the more occupied his mind was, the less time he had to dwell on his misfortunes. That was another reason why Tokio insisted that he begin studying right after his arrival in Tokyo.

"_Do not let sorrow defeat you, but carry it with dignity. Do not curse your future by cursing the past, but accept the past in order to face your future. It will be a struggle, but you are brave and you are strong." _

Perhaps it was because he acknowledged that Tokio understood his pain that he did not dismiss her statements as mere platitudes. At night, when the tears still flowed and the pain still rent his chest, he nevertheless thanked Fujita Gorō and Tokio for having given him a new lease on life.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), late May – Kobe =

Yamakawa Hiroshi grinned as he approached the police training quarters and heard the hearty shouts of men practicing kendō kata. The doors to the hall were open, and he was just about to step inside when a sword materialized with a flash, barring his way.

"You weren't thinking about stepping inside, still wearing your boots, were you?" A low voice drawled.

A shiver ran down the back of Yamakawa's neck, but his grin returned when he saw that the blade was turned away from him.

"These boots are a hassle to take off and put on again. I figured you might make an exception for officers in uniform."

"Think again," Fujita Gorō growled. "You and your brother, you're both complete idiots when it comes to adopting western habits."

Yamakawa looked down at Fujita's feet and sniggered. It was quite odd to see Fujita wearing his police uniform, with his bare feet sticking out from the cuffs of his trousers. He was the only one in the hall not wearing the traditional hakama and protective gear.

"Ahou." Fujita snorted, and casually shifted the weight of his sword in his hand. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I came to check up on my subordinates, to make sure you weren't bullying them." Yamakawa sat down on a stool to pull off his boots.

"You're telling me that you sent me weaklings who could easily be bullied?" Fujita raised an eyebrow.

"Hah! You and your smart mouth, eh, Lieutenant Inspector Fujita? Show a little respect for a lieutenant colonel of the Imperial Army." Yamakawa lined up his footwear outside the door, relieved that his socks were clean and did not smell.

"I respect you well enough, Colonel. It's what stopped me from physically running your foppish brother out of my house the other day." Fujita sheathed his sword.

"Hehe, what did he do this time?" Yamakawa chuckled at the thought of his younger brother causing mischief.

Fujita regarded the shorter man coolly.

"He brought Tokio roses."

"Ahaha!" The older Yamakawa brother found it quite hilarious. "He might be a fop, but Kenjirō's definitely got guts."

"Hmph." Fujita turned his attention back to the other men who had paused to observe the visitor. "I don't recall telling anyone to stop," he called out in a severe tone.

The men hastily resumed their practice; although they all had questions about the relationship between the two superior officers, Fujita was liable to increase their drills just for asking.

"Hey Suzuki!" Yamakawa called out to a young man. "Don't let these police goons get cocky! Show your army pride!" The man pushed back his opponent fiercely, spurred on by his words.

"Oi Ishihara!" Fujita barked at Suzuki's partner. "Are you going to let these army punks forget who had to bail them out during the Seinan War?"

The tension heightened throughout the practice hall and the sparring continued with increased urgency.

"It looks like you've put a good group together." Yamakawa nodded as he surveyed the assembled men. "Subjugation Force, aye?"

Fujita hesitated before he answered.

"They'll have to do." He met Yamakawa's eye and tightened his lips. In this Meiji era, when the samurai's katana were disdained as outdated weaponry, this was what passed for first-class swordsmanship.

"And you still can't tell me what they'll be subjugating." Yamakawa squinted slyly.

"Let me know when you have clearance from Minister Yamagata," Fujita shrugged off the inquiry. "And bring a good bottle of saké to my house." It was the kind of tale that was best told over drinks, after the successful completion of the mission.

A fortnight ago, immediately after Fujita had been granted full authority over the anti-Shishio operations, he had issued a request for the best swordsmen in the police force and military to be assigned under his command. At first, the army had been reluctant to comply with the police officer's demand; they resented being kept in the dark about the purpose of the mission as well as Fujita's presumed authority. However, Yamakawa Hiroshi had intervened on behalf of his friend, and a few days ago, a company of select soldiers had presented themselves for duty in Kobe. Fujita's aim was to create a unit specifically to combat the Juppongatana, purportedly an elite hit squad within Shishio's organization. He had conducted the trials himself and was now overseeing their training. Yamakawa, having facilitated the transfer of personnel, had stopped by for one last chat with Fujita before returning to his regular command.

"Well, I shan't worry too much about you," Yamakawa sighed. "Though a part of me wishes that I could join you. I can't remember the last time I fought with a sword."

"It's just as well that you're not a part of this. You're a better dancer than you are a swordsman." Fujita smirked at his own jest: one of Yamakawa's most famous feats in battle was having led a company of soldiers disguised as lion dancers through enemy lines into Wakamatsu Castle during the Battle of Aizu.

"Hey! Who do you have to thank for getting you into the castle back then, hmmm?" Yamakawa retorted.

"In any case, it's not a matter for the Imperial Army." Mobilizing the military to fight against Shishio Makoto, so soon after the end of the Seinan War, would only highlight the weaknesses of the Japanese government, especially after Ōkubo Toshimichi's assassination. "And besides, you're a strategist, not a foot soldier."

Yamakawa cocked his head with a pensive look towards Fujita.

"You know, I don't expect special treatment from you…."

Those words caught Fujita off guard, and for an instant, he felt his heart constrict in his chest. Unwittingly, the image of a different, ever-smiling man rose to mind. Inhaling deeply, Fujita gathered his thoughts, and keeping his voice level, he spoke.

"When have I ever shown you special treatment? Of course, if you're willing to serve under me –"

"Not a chance." Yamakawa cut him off, and Fujita smirked again. "I swear, not a damned iota of respect from you. I'm surprised half these men haven't run away already," he muttered. "I presume your skills haven't rusted over the years," he added wryly. He absentmindedly cradled his left hand as he turned back to watch the training. The army officer had lost the use of it after being injured during the recent war, and his former comrade knew that he would never seriously wield a sword again.

"If they had, I wouldn't be in charge," Fujita answered. There was nothing flippant about his response; he fully realized just how much was riding on the outcome of this mission and he was not one to take the responsibility lightly.

Frankly, none of the men in the unit would have ranked at the top of the list of swordsmen that Fujita had encountered over the years. He had already concluded that the best officers in the unit would be no match for the young man called Seta Soujirō. Even allowing for the fact that Seta was Shishio's right hand man, Fujita would have to count on the rest of the Juppongatana being not nearly so formidable. Fifty men in the unit would allow for odds of five against one in the coming battle; between himself and Himura, they would have to deal with Shishio and Seta. It was an old, familiar exercise for the man formerly known as Saitou Hajime, Third Captain of the Shinsengumi. After all, the Shinsengumi had specialized in close group combat, seeking superiority in numbers in order to protect the peace of Kyoto.

Yamakawa watched as Fujita rejoined the practice, taking on groups of five in his demonstration (it was as close as they would get to real combat training). Although the former general of Aizu had fought alongside many famous men over the years, there were few he would name in the same breath as the man who had been dreaded as 'Miburo'. He could not help but marvel at the expertise and raw talent on display as Fujita adroitly bested all comers, pointing out the flaws in their approach and coordinating their attacks even as he parried their blows. Yamakawa knew that the men must all have speculated about his background, and the thought made him smile nostalgically. How long ago it seemed that he had first been introduced to the Shinsengumi, by his childhood friend, Takagi Tokio.

And although Fujita Gorō was not a sentimental man, he would have to admit that this kind of recruitment and training brought back memories of a bygone era, of when he had had a different name, and had first shouldered the burden of his ideals….

* * *

= _Ganji Year 1 (1864) – Autumn – Kyoto, Mibu_ =

Okita Souji ran like a swift breeze across the courtyard of Mibu Temple towards the practice hall. He grinned as heard the energetic shouts of eager recruits ringing out into the air, and hastily kicking off his footwear, he jumped up onto the outer corridor. He was about to dash into the hall when he was halted in his tracks by a shinai that came whipping out from behind the door.

"You weren't thinking about stepping inside, covered in muck, were you?" Saitou Hajime drawled.

Okita beamed at him, not in the least bit perturbed by the bamboo weapon pointed at his throat.

"I'm sorry I'm late! Tamesaburō's new ball got stuck in the reeds down by the river bank."

That explained the mud splattered all over his hakama, but it did not excuse his lack of etiquette, and Saitou did not withdraw the shinai.

"You're late to the 'first practice' because you were busy playing with the Yagi brats? Ahou. Get your priorities straight." Saitou nodded towards the top of the hall, where Hijikata Toshizō and Kondō Isami were seated.

While Kondō was trying to hide a smile at Okita's appearance (the commander was always too soft on the favorite disciple of the Shieikan, according to the others), Hijikata's face had become dangerously dark and one could virtually see the vein throbbing on his forehead.

"Ahaha…." Okita's laugh fizzled out as he realized that Hijikata would not let him off lightly for his most recent violation.

"Tardiness and defilement of the dojo: would that be considered dishonoring the way of the samurai?" Saitou asked rhetorically. The Shinsengumi Charter was an unrelenting code, and to bring shame to one's standing as a samurai was punishable by 'seppuku'.

"Ah, I'll go change!" Okita drew a deep breath and shouted out to the crowd. "I am Okita Souji, First Captain of the Shinsengumi! I'll be right back to conduct the sparring session, so please make sure you're warmed up and ready!" With that, he ran off, leaving a stunned silence in the hall.

Within seconds, however, the murmurs started.

"That was Okita Souji?"

"I heard that he was a young, but he doesn't look like much."

"That's the famous First Captain?"

"Who said you could stop!" Hijikata yelled, and the men all jumped to attention. "Fifty more swings!"

When Okita reappeared a little while later, clean and proper, the men studiously ignored him for fear of the Demon Vice Commander. The captains overseeing the recruitment had already begun picking out the most promising candidates. Ever since the Ikedaya Incident that summer, the Shinsengumi's reputation had spread far and wide and the number of hopeful applicants had increased manifold. It was heartening proof of the progress that they had made over the year and a half since their arrival in the Imperial City. What had started out as a rag tag bunch of barely two-dozen men now boasted over a hundred members organized into highly efficient squads. Of those who sought to join, only a select few were granted entry – there was no place for half-hearted men in this pack of wolves. Most of them were sent home, with instructions to try again when they had improved their skill. There were inevitably some who would object, claiming to be the highborn son of some prestigious samurai household or to have some notable connection to the Bakufu; they would be directed to try their luck with the Mimawari-gumi, which emphasized such things as birthright over prowess.

Okita took his place alongside the other executive members and Nagakura Shinpachi quickly filled him in on the proceedings. This was a 'first practice' for the recruits and all that remained was for the captains to administer the final exam. It used to be that the more hot-blooded captains fought over the order in which they took part; over time, it had become standard procedure that they play 'janken' to establish the lineup. However, in the case of master swordsmen, for whom being able to read an opponent's movements was a matter of course, even a simple bout of rock-paper-scissors was fiercely contested. It was quite a sight to see the so-called Wolves of Mibu engaged in a terribly serious version of child's play.

"Okita! No fair – that was a slow move!"

"What was that?! You can't play half-scissors, half-rock, Harada-san!"

"Dontcha know, Toudou? This is a pistol! Bang bang!"

After numerous draws and accusations of cheating, Okita emerged victorious, as he often did. To both Saitou's and Nagakura's annoyance, by some fluke, Harada was to go second. A well-timed growl from Saitou was meant to intimidate Toudou, and it did the trick – but Nagakura seized the opportunity and won the third round instead. The next time, Toudou resolved to stand his ground and beat Saitou to fourth place. Saitou gave a loud 'tsk' of frustration.

"Serves you right, Saitou-kun." Nagakura scoffed at him. "You can't bully Toudou that easily."

Saitou glared at his fist, which had lost to Toudou's 'paper'. He had never been one for childish games, and it was galling that this had cost him the privilege of fighting the best newcomers.

As Okita faced off against his opponent, a hush descended over the crowd. Those who might have underestimated him because of his youthful demeanor quickly realized their mistake as he masterfully led the challenger in a graceful dance around the hall. It was apparent to all who had control over this match. Okita was in his element as he directed the steps, both his own and his opponent's, and so natural were their movements that one would have assumed that it was carefully choreographed instead of an impromptu meeting of the minds. He had chosen his partner well; among all the candidates, this man showed the most talent, otherwise he would not have been able to keep up with the First Captain.

"I'm glad to see that Okita-kun is feeling better," Nagakura spoke quietly to Saitou. "He had us worried for a while."

Saitou threw a sideways glance at the Second Captain. Although only Okita and Saitou knew that Okita had passed out during action at the Ikedaya, it had been obvious to those that knew him well that he was in ill health. For the remainder of the summer into the autumn, he had been forced to see a doctor periodically and to take time off for bed rest. However, it was not easy for a man like Okita to lie idle while others carried on with their duties. And so, he pushed himself, refusing to accept the prognosis of his ailment, or if he did accept it, he refused to be bound by it. This, Saitou knew. However, he also knew that were he in Okita's position, he would be doing the same.

"Hmph. Does he look like someone we need to worry about?" Saitou jerked his chin towards the sparring pair, and the pure joy that was expressed throughout his comrade's body belied any of their misgivings.

The match was drawing to a climax. Having sensed that his opponent was tiring, Okita now changed his pace and decreased the speed – inversely, the menacing pressure increased. The point of his shinai seemed to sway, and suddenly, in the barest fraction of a second, a powerful crack resounded throughout the hall. A spontaneous cheer of approval rose up from the audience as the bout ended in spectacular fashion.

"Men! Ippon!" Hijikata called out.

Nagakura and Saitou both let out the breath that they had involuntarily held and neither could suppress their grins.

"You're right," Nagakura said admiringly. "At least, he shouldn't expect any special treatment from us."

The recruit had taken off his headgear and was bowing deeply to Okita with a look of sheer awe in his expression. Okita humbly deflected the praise as he handed him a towel.

Harada's challenger was an older man and quite experienced. He managed to evade the longer reach of Harada's spear, and carefully, patiently waited for an opportunity to step into his sphere of attack. Harada's spear seemed to grow and shrink as if by magic; for all that he was the resident clown of the Shinsengumi, there was no refuting his skill with the weapon. For a swordsman, fighting against a spear-wielder was said to be three times as taxing as against another swordsman. The opponent fended off Harada's attack for a while, but ultimately, Harada landed his blow. The man looked frustrated but also impressed; the Shinsengumi's famous captains were living up to their reputations.

When it came to Nagakura's turn, in a twist, the recruit declared that he would like to face the Second Captain with a spear. Nagakura looked askance at the young man.

"You do realize that I've trained frequently with Captain Harada – if that's what influenced your request." The implication was that there would be no point in facing him with a spear unless he was at least as capable as Harada.

"I am a disciple of the Hōzōin-ryū, and my first weapon of choice has always been the spear."

Nagakura was a gracious man and he obliged. However, whatever advantages the spear's long range might have had over the sword were negligible against the Second Captain. After a long moment during which the two gauged each other, the instant that the challenger launched his attack, Nagakura's shinai deflected the strike and his counterattack knocked the man off his feet. If there was any doubt left in the candidates' minds as to the caliber of the leadership, it disintegrated as the man fell. There was a smug look on Hijikata's face as he surveyed the hall. Quite a few seemed to have lost confidence that they could find their place among this group, and some were beginning to have qualms about their decision to join.

It was fortunate then that Toudou conducted the next exam. One of the youngest members of the group, his abilities were the product of careful training more so than inherent talent. If Okita was a prodigy and Nagakura a genius, Toudou was the one who had worked his way up through diligent practice. To the new recruits, there was a reassuring quality to his swordsmanship – it was within the range that they could aspire to if they applied themselves. Not only that, but he was a very considerate person; even as their shinai clashed, he called out encouragement to his opponent. This nature of his was what also endeared him to his fellow members; among a group of highly individual characters, his efforts to 'read the air' and to maintain a good atmosphere were appreciated by all.

As Saitou watched, he knew that the remaining participants would provide him with little amusement. While he never shirked his duties as an instructor, what he really sought for in practice was a decent sparring partner. The thought flitted across his mind that he would have to try harder at janken, but he banished it just as quickly with a scowl. There remained only one way that he could make the rest of this practice entertaining.

After Toudou's match came to an end, Saitou looked towards Kondō and Hijikata, and calmly stated,

"I'll take on the next five all together."

His words caused all the other members to turn towards him in surprise.

"Oi, Saitou, whatcha doing, trying to show off?" Harada eyed him suspiciously.

"The patrols are conducted in groups of at least five. You already know the outcome of the match should I take any of them on one at a time." This was not said as a boast but as a matter-of-fact. "This will be closer to a practical demonstration of the actual work. You'll be able to get an idea of how well they'll fight together."

Hijikata and Kondō nodded to each other; it was a convincing argument.

"Saitou, I trust you not to underestimate any opponent, but be aware of what this means for you." Hijikata fixed Saitou with an intimidating glare. Having requested the conditions himself, if Saitou were to lose, it would result in a serious loss of face for the Shinsengumi leadership.

"If I lose, feel free to demote me or assign me to grunt work, or whatever you see fit." Saitou shrugged indifferently.

"Great! Saitou-san, you can do our laundry for a month!" Okita quipped with a grin.

"I guess we're cheering on the recruits then," Nagakura joined in.

"Sounds good to me!" Harada cackled and slapped his thigh.

"Saitou-san the laundry man…." Even Toudou piped up.

Saitou curbed his urge to hit them, and instead stepped forward into the middle of the hall.

"I'm Saitou Hajime, Third Captain of the Shinsengumi." The tension in the hall was palpable. Along with Okita and Nagakura, his name was frequently mentioned as one of the strongest men of the Shinsengumi. "Consider this a practical demonstration of a patrol. Five challengers, step forward. If even one of you lands a blow, it will be considered your win."

"Saitou-sensei, excuse me for speaking frankly, but do you mean to insult us?" A haughty-looking man spoke up, aggravated by the presumption of the gap in their respective strengths.

"The Shinsengumi always work in groups. As I said, this is a practical demonstration. If you have a problem with that, you don't need to participate." Saitou stopped himself from actually insulting the man. "Five of you, step forward now, or you can all go home."

Hesitantly, one man rose to his feet, followed by another, until there was the requisite number standing around Saitou. Hijikata, acting as the referee, gave the signal to begin.

With a yell, the first man leapt forward, aiming for Saitou's head; almost at the same time, another charged from the side. However, Saitou's footwork had always been impeccable, and with a few steps, he led them into a single line of attack. Faster than their eyes could follow, they were sent flying backwards with incredible force.

"Gatotsu…!" Okita leaned forward enthusiastically.

"Ah, come on newbies! Don't be lured into his 'ma-ai' so easily!" Harada thrust his spear to mark his words.

Nagakura and Toudou sighed; Saitou really did not hold back under any circumstances. The two recruits struggled to get back up, winded and in pain.

"The streets of Kyoto are a battleground, and the enemy has hired some of the most skilled assassins in the country. Kawakami Gensai, Nakamura Hanjirō, Okada Izō – and there's the as-yet unnamed Hitokiri Battousai. When faced with an enemy of vastly superior strength, your best chance of victory is to fight in numbers." Saitou instructed the remaining three men, who were circling him, desperately looking for any kind of opening. "Control your breathing. Control every inch of your body. Be aware of your surroundings. Watch each other's actions. And attack as one."

With a yell, the men sprang towards Saitou. Sensing a chance while Saitou dodged two of the blows at once, the third man aimed for his torso, but before his shinai could make contact, Saitou threw him over his shoulder and onto the other two men.

"Didn't I tell you to control every inch of your body?" Saitou had not even broken a sweat. "You'll need to learn jū-jutsu here also." The Shinsengumi had an excellent jū-jutsu master, Matsubara Chūji, and Saitou took his instruction seriously.

"If Okita-kun and Toudou-kun are the carrots, then Saitou-kun is definitely the whip." Nagakura noted to nobody in particular.

"Yeah, and Saitou-san often doesn't fight fair. He once flicked blood into the enemies eyes to blind them." Okita commented unhelpfully from the sidelines.

"Fight to win or die trying. Once you enter the Shinsengumi, defeat in battle is not an option." Saitou addressed the candidates, none of whom dared to look him in the eye.

This was the strength it took to maintain one's position as a Shinsengumi Captain. In order to uphold the rule of law in a time of anarchy, to fight for one's ideals, it required an unwavering commitment and fearlessness. For the recruits, it was a lesson well learned; failure to live up to those ideals resulted in death, either at the hands of the enemy or by the rules of the Shinsengumi Charter.

Nonetheless, as effective as Saitou's demonstration might have been, the consequence of it was that about half of the candidates dropped out ("they would have been no use in the end," Saitou justified). And when the successful applicants were assigned to their units, a few of those going into the Third Unit begged Hijikata to be transferred to the First or Second Unit instead.

"You know you're winning no popularity contests with that personality of yours, Saitou-san." Okita laughed at his fellow captain when he brought him the news.

Saitou snorted derisively.

"Ahou. My men respect me, whether or not they like me." That much was true; the Third Unit was full of hardened warriors, and not a single one of them would think twice about following their captain's command. "Only fools would be bothered by such trivial things like popularity."

"Being popular can raise morale," Okita countered glibly. "I'm First Captain for a reason. First in skill, looks, and all-round greatness!"

"Clearly not first in smarts," came the snappish rejoinder.

"Hah! You think you're smarter than me?" Okita thumbed his nose at Saitou.

"I know I am."

Nagakura sighed as he passed by the bickering pair in the courtyard. It was a form of recreation for the two younger men, he knew, and it was not worth his while getting involved. However, Okita's next words caused him to prick up his ears.

"Saitou-san, you think you can afford to be smug and not care – that it doesn't matter whether anyone else actually likes you just so long as Tokio-san does."

Nagakura paused, looking over his shoulder. The Third Captain always gave off an aura of having the upper hand, but the subject of Takagi Tokio was a prickly one. Saitou froze for a second, though it was only for a second. He flashed a wicked smirk at Okita.

"So what? She likes me – better than you. What does that say about you, pretty boy?" A jibe of that level, he could still evade with ease.

"You mean, what does that tell you about her?" Okita chuckled darkly. "Hey there, Nagakura-san!" Okita waved Nagakura over. "What do you think?" Okita and Nagakura looked at each other, and grinned in mutual agreement.

"I think it tells us that she has terrible taste in men," Nagakura declared. "It's an unfortunate and serious flaw."

"What do you think she sees in him? Even when he makes googly eyes at her, it just looks like he's glaring."

"Maybe she was told in her childhood that boys are mean to the girls they like – so her sense of affection was warped."

"Poor lady. How do you think we can deliver her from this jerk's clutches?"

As unflappable as he was in battle, Saitou Hajime was still young, and not nearly so skilled in combatting sustained psychological attacks about his romantic affairs. He would learn in due course, but for the time being, his fellow captains reveled in having some fun at his expense. He cursed and threatened them, to little effect, for his attempts to cover up his discomfiture were about as polished as his prowess at janken.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), late May – Kobe =

"Take care of yourself." Yamakawa gave Fujita's shoulder a light smack as he took his leave. "And take care of my men. They're good officers." The training had ended, and Yamakawa was scheduled to return to Tokyo on a ship that evening.

"I can't promise you that they'll all come back alive," Fujita said curtly, to which Yamakawa nodded in reply. They both accepted that as men who had volunteered to fight for the sake of the country, death was unavoidable on the field of battle. Still, for all that Fujita could appear ruthless, Yamakawa appreciated that Fujita never considered his men expendable or sacrificial pawns.

"Well, try not to die – Sada-chan won't have any trouble finding a new husband if you don't come back, but I doubt I'll find him as good a drinking partner as you."

"Your concern is touching," Fujita's voice dripped with sarcasm. "What will you do if Tokio ends up remarrying your younger brother and you have to deal with her as a sister-in-law."

"Gah! Promise me you'll come back safe and sound, Fujita!" Yamakawa made a comical grimace, causing Fujita to smirk. The women of Yamakawa's household were formidable and they held a strict rein on the family; if Tokio were to join the fold, the men would be completely at their mercy.

"Ahou," came the standard reply.

"I'll check in on her when I get back." Yamakawa pulled on his jacket. "Do you have any messages to pass on?"

"Tell her not to spoil the children too much." Fujita did not need to say that he appreciated Yamakawa's consideration for his family. It required little thought to discern that Fujita's current mission entailed substantial danger, and Yamakawa would do as much as was in his power to ensure the family's safety.

"Children? Oh, the orphan boy you took in." Yamakawa had not yet met Eiji but he had heard about the circumstances from Kenjirō.

"And tell her she doesn't have to go to Itabashi on her own. I'll go with her once I return." At that statement, Yamakawa looked at Fujita thoughtfully. Fujita met his gaze, casually tapping out a cigarette from the pack.

"You know, you're a better man than most people think." Yamakawa stood up straight and fixed his belt.

"Hmph. I don't need you to tell me that." Fujita struck a match and lit the cigarette. "You better go before you miss your boat."

"See you back in Tokyo, Fujita," Yamakawa turned the handle on the door. "I don't want to have to visit your grave next year."

"Go to hell, Yamakawa-san." Fujita called out after him as he left.

It was not surprising that Yamakawa had understood the reference to Itabashi. He had been present for some of the discussions when Nagakura Shinpachi had surprised them with his proposition, about building a grave for Kondō Isami, two years ago. Fujita took a deep drag of his cigarette, wondering briefly what Nagakura was doing at that moment. Truth be told, he had contemplated enlisting Nagakura for the operation but had decided against it for several reasons. One was bureaucratic: Nagakura did not work for the government and this was a highly classified operation. Another factor was selfish: if Nagakura participated, then his chances to fight would inevitably be lessened. Though times had changed, Fujita Gorō was still a man who relished the thrill of battle. However, there was another, more closely held reason that he had only admitted to his wife. Should the worst come to pass and should he not return, then Nagakura was the only one who could carry the Shinsengumi's legacy. Two years ago, Nagakura had also talked passionately about restoring the good name of the Shinsengumi – he wanted to write a history of the organization and to preserve their story for posterity. This was not something that Saitou Hajime would ever have been inclined to do, but he acknowledged the efforts of his former comrade as something he desired himself. When Fujita first considered the necessary manpower to fight against Shishio, he had decided that Nagakura should not participate in a battle that was not his and in which they could both be killed. Also, Nagakura was married with children and had a dōjō to run in Hokkaidō. He had settled down to a peaceful life and had not bloodied his sword since he had surrendered in the Boshin War.

Tokio had agreed with his reasoning. It was one thing to assign Himura Battousai to the mission (she considered it the Ishin-Shishi's responsibility to deal with the matter in the first place), but to solicit Nagakura to take part was another.

"_You know he will join you if you ask him, such is the nature of a Shinsengumi Captain. But it would be patently unfair of the Meiji government to push this burden onto him." _

Besides, she had noted, Hokkaidō was currently a hotbed of foreign intrigue, and it was fortuitous that the police would have a very skilled, local agent whom they could call upon should the situation require. Fujita had been amused by that observation; even though Tokio was now every bit the dutiful wife and mother, her career at the Aizu court manifested itself from time to time.

He cast his gaze outside the window, to the sun setting in the west. He would be back in Kyoto soon, back to the city where he had made his name and found his path. Those experiences were an indelible part of him and had forged within him two immovable truths: the Shinsengumi and Tokio. His brow furrowed slightly as he thought about her. If he had thought of going to Itabashi, then no doubt, so had she. The message he had sent with Yamakawa would probably be redundant, and for the second year in a row, Tokio would be tending to the grave on her own – last year, he had been away fighting in the Seinan War. Tokio's life, and his own, were filled with too many graves. Yet, despite the gravity of all those sacrifices, it was not despair or hatred that they held in their hearts. The act of mourning was a comfort, and she bore the weight of those lives with reverence and gratitude. She knew without it being said that her husband shared her feelings, and he knew that when she paid her respects at the gravesites of his comrades, that she prayed on his behalf also. Though times had changed, he was still a Shinsengumi Captain in the Meiji era, and she was still the woman who understood him best.

* * *

=_ Meiji Year 9 (1876) April – Tokyo _=

Tokio was in the kitchen preparing dinner when she heard Muku bark; it was one the dog used to alert her mistress to visitors. She hastily wiped her hands on her apron and took the pot off the charcoal stove, and hurried to the door. She was a little alarmed to see that the dog seemed especially cautious, her whole body on full alert, but it made sense considering the man they were expecting. She worried for a moment that the dog might act aggressively, but she noticed that while Muku was focused, she did not appear threatened. Just then, she heard a knock on the garden gate and a man's voice call out,

"Gomen kudasai!"

It was a voice that she recognized, from a distant place and a long time ago. She hastened to open the gate, and Muku gave another short bark. A gasp escaped her lips at the sight of the caller.

"Tokio-san!"

"Nagakura-sama!"

There was a delighted pause, as she smiled at the former Second Captain of the Shinsengumi, who looked abashed and at a loss for words. Tokio quickly collected herself and ushered him inside.

"How wonderful it is to see you! You are most welcome to our home. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

"No, not at all – I was a little unsure of which house was yours because there's no name plaque –"

"Ah, yes, my husband refuses to put one up – he thinks it helps to keep a low profile."

"Well I hope I'm not disturbing you…."

"Nagakura-sama, please, there's no need to stand on ceremony with us. He should be returning from work soon – oh, we have been so looking forward to seeing you!"

As Nagakura stepped inside the garden, Muku gave a short yip. She had not been acknowledged, and nobody got into the house without her approval. Tokio smiled reassuringly at the man, and called the dog forward.

"Muku, Nagakura-sama is a very dear guest. Be on your best behavior."

The large white dog carefully sniffed at Nagakura's hand and gave a small wag of her tail. By instinct, she recognized that this man was similar to her master, and that he was no danger to her family. She then stepped away and went to stand by the garden gate.

"It seems as though she understands you well," Nagakura glanced back to the dog as Tokio invited him into the house.

"She's a good dog – we got her almost two years ago, after we were wed."

"My belated congratulations, by the way, on your marriage." Nagakura bowed formally and his words caused Tokio to blush.

"Thank you, Nagakura-sama. And it is good to see you looking well."

"Oh, and these are for you, just a little something I picked up on my way," he bowed again as he handed her a wrapped parcel.

"You're too kind. That wasn't necessary, but thank you very much." She bowed in return.

It had been more than nine years since they had last seen each other in Kyoto, before the outbreak of the Boshin War. Almost a decade's worth of thoughts and memories hung in the air as she showed him to the main room. As Nagakura sat down, Tokio excused herself to prepare some tea. He looked around the room and out at the garden. It was a peaceful place, such that any man could wish for, and very well kept. While there was an obviously feminine touch to the decor, there was nothing to offend the austere sensibilities of the man he had known in Kyoto.

When the lady of the house returned with a tray of tea things, Nagakura smiled at her self-consciously.

"Thank you very much for inviting me today." He had rarely been in her company on his own – there had always been a few others around during their previous interactions – and he felt somewhat self-conscious.

"I'm very glad you could make it – we were so happy to receive your letter that you were coming. And it is so far from Hokkaidō; I hope the journey was not too wearisome."

"It was a long trip," he admitted, "but I'm glad I came. I saw Doctor Matsumoto Ryōjun yesterday – he sends his regards and says to come see him again soon." For a fleeting second, a strange expression graced her face, but her smile quickly returned. He noted how little she seemed to have changed in the intervening years. "I can't believe I'm seeing you again, Tokio-san," he said with a smile as he accepted the tea she had poured for him.

She bowed her head with a smile.

"I can't believe that it's been so many years. May I ask how your family are, and about your dōjō?"

"My wife is well, and we've got two little ones now. I'm enjoying teaching also. It's not a bad life, I must say. Though I have to apologize – we men are not so good about keeping in touch."

"Well, I know the blame lies mostly with my husband." Tokio shook her head. "He's a terrible correspondent."

"Haha, and so am I." Nagakura knew it was not in Saitou's character to keep people appraised about his daily life. "Nonetheless, I was delighted to hear that you finally got married." The notice from his old comrade had been very short, a simple notification of the matter. However, coming from Saitou, it was tantamount to gushing.

Tokio blushed again; she knew that her relationship with Saitou had been an open secret among the Shinsengumi captains during their days in Kyoto, and that they had liked to tease him about it. Just then, Muku barked excitedly – her master had come home. Tokio went to the genkan to greet her husband, just as he entered the door.

"Okaerinasai mase, Danna-sama." She took his hat and sword from him as he took off his shoes. Instead of the standard reply, he asked,

"He's here?"

"In the main room. I'll bring out some refreshments." She could tell that he was eager to see their guest.

"Hot sake, if it's ready," he requested as he walked down the corridor. She nodded at him with an indulgent smile.

Nagakura looked up over the rim of his glasses at the tall, lean figure of his former comrade as Saitou entered the room.

"Nagakura-san…. Or should I call you Sugimura-san?" Nagakura Shinpachi had changed his name to Sugimura Yoshie when he had married.

"O-jama shite imasu." Nagakura bowed in greeting. " Call me Sugimura, if you want me to call you Fujita-kun."

"The name sounds weird from your mouth." Saitou sat down opposite the only other captain of the Shinsengumi who had survived the Boshin War.

"So you're really a police officer now. I was surprised to say the least to hear that you were working for the Meiji government."

"My skill set was in demand, and it seemed an obvious course of action." Despite having what some might consider a wicked personality, Saitou had always maintained a rigid code of honor and duty.

"Haha. Even back in Kyoto, I would have thought you were more suited to be a villain than a keeper of law. How appearances can be deceiving." Nagakura chortled.

"Only if you're dumb enough to be deceived," Saitou narrowed his eyes at his guest's joke.

"Hijikata-san would probably approve of you in a western-style uniform."

"Hah. For all his reputation as a 'demon', he was pretty vain."

Neither Nagakura nor Saitou were particularly talkative men, but in each other's company, it was as though no time had passed since their last meeting. There was no awkwardness, no uneasiness – it was simply a natural conversation among old comrades.

Tokio reappeared carrying some sake and light snacks. The appreciative look in Saitou's eyes did not escape Nagakura's notice; as unlikely as it was, it seemed that married life suited the man.

"So, your business in Tokyo." Never one to beat about the bush, Saitou got straight to the point after he had a cup in his hand. "What's the situation?"

Nagakura slowly took a sip of warm sake and closed his eyes.

"I saw Matsumoto-sensei yesterday, and he thinks that it's possible. Enough time has passed now that there won't be too much political opposition."

Tokio looked at her husband, who was studying their guest carefully.

"What about funding?"

"I'm hoping that I'll be able to find enough supporters, though I don't suppose it will be easy." Nagakura sighed.

"That's probably true. Not many people want to be associated with the Shinsengumi or Kondō's name, in this day and age." Saitou's voice was dry, betraying no emotion.

"Even if that's the case, I'll find a way somehow. I need to do this, Saitou-kun…." Nagakura's fist clenched. "It's not right for Kondō-san to continue to be regarded as a criminal and traitor, not after everything he did for the sake of the country. At the very least, he should have a proper grave…."

Saitou indicated to Tokio to refill their cups, and paused for a while before speaking again.

"You'll be exposing yourself to our former enemies."

"If they want to come all the way up to Hokkaidō to find me, I'll gladly welcome them anytime." Nagakura dismissed the warning. "But the Commander's honor needs to be restored."

"His honor…. Or yours, Nagakura-san?" Saitou's expression was hidden behind the hand that held the cup to his lips. Tokio pursed her lips in a wordless caution; she did not want him to aggravate their visitor, not when he had come so far and they had not seen him in so long.

Nagakura glared at Saitou for a moment, but instead of retorting, he sighed.

"For his honor, and for mine, yes." Nagakura lowered his eyes. "You know, every day since I left the Shinsengumi, I have lived with the regret that we parted on bad terms." Nagakura had left the Shinsengumi shortly before Kondō's capture by the enemy, having fallen out with the Commander over the course of the war. "I think I knew then that it would be the last time I would ever see him. But I imagined that he would die a hero's death on the battlefield – not that he would be executed like a common criminal and his head displayed for the public to ridicule."

Saitou and Tokio listened without uttering a word. All of them had regrets from the Boshin War, for actions that were beyond their control, for fates that were cruelly twisted. Yet, Nagakura's regret was particularly painful, for it was of his own making.

"So you think you can assuage your guilt by building him a grave." Saitou ignored Tokio's reproachful look and kept his eyes fixed on Nagakura.

"My guilt? No. But as his friend, and as his comrade, I think it's the least that I could do." Nagakura spoke deliberately, calmly and coolly; he had almost forgotten what it was like to deal with Saitou in person. "And I need to do this for my children also."

His last statement caused his hosts to look at him sharply, and Nagakura held Saitou's gaze steadily.

"My children are beginning to ask about my background, about my life. They are too young to understand now, but one day, I will tell them. When I do, I won't have them feel ashamed of my past. I want them to be able to hold their heads up high, and know that all that we did, we did for the sake of the country…. Don't you agree that this should be so?" This time, it was Nagakura who challenged Saitou.

"For your children?" Saitou muttered and looked away. Nagakura wondered whether it was his imagination, or did Tokio's cheeks seem pink?

"Well, if you don't want to be involved, I won't force you – " Nagakura began, but Saitou cut him off.

"I never said that, did I?" He gave a small snort. "But I'll say it again: you'll be exposing yourself to your former enemies. That's something that I can't have."

"So what are you saying?" A note of exasperation began to creep into the older man's voice.

"Just make sure our names stay out of it." Saitou reached for an ashtray and lit up a cigarette. "And you'll probably want this." He took out a sheaf of papers from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to Nagakura.

Nagakura took the sheets and looked through them quickly. It was a list of all known survivors of the Shinsengumi, with their current names and addresses. There was also a list of family of deceased members.

"Saitou-kun, this is…." His voice trailed off in disbelief.

"One of the perks of working in the police force. Should make it easier for you to rustle up some money." Saitou nonchalantly blew a ring of smoke into the air.

"We will contribute what we can too, of course," Tokio added gently.

"I…am most grateful." Nagakura bowed his head deeply, genuinely moved by the unexpected assistance. "Thank you, Saitou-kun, Tokio-san…."

"Tokio, you can probably help him out with the details." Saitou poured another drink for them both.

Tokio nodded and smiled.

"If you would allow me to, I have some experience with similar situations." She had worked tirelessly in Aizu in order to make sure that the war dead had a proper burial, dealing with the temples and local communities to make arrangements and secure gravesites.

"I don't want to trouble you, Tokio-san," Nagakura's face was flushed with emotion.

"It would be my honor to assist you, Nagakura-sama. And you are right in all that you have said, never mind his contrary attitude." Tokio frowned reproachfully at her husband. "Kondō-sensei should have a proper grave, and our children should be proud of their fathers."

Saitou stiffened almost imperceptibly at the use of the term 'our children', but it was enough for Nagakura to draw a conclusion. Tokio presently excused herself to finish the dinner preparations, and the men were left alone again.

"Saitou-kun, I'm glad I came…." Nagakura felt as though a burden had been made much lighter through the help of his old comrade.

"Hmph. I mean it when I tell you to keep our names of out of it. No records, no acknowledgements." Saitou's voice was almost a growl.

Nagakura nodded in understanding. Although he now led a quiet life, even he worried at times about threats from the past. Saitou Hajime, on the other hand, was still active on the frontlines, placing his life in danger with every mission, and must always be watchful for enemies.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure nobody ever knows how much you actually care."

"Ahou."

"Okita-kun was right, you really are a grouch with a heart of gold." No matter that Saitou could be a most infuriating man to deal with, he was nonetheless one of the best men he knew.

"That fool." There was a grudging affection in the way he said it.

"Saitou-kun, I really mean to do my best to restore the Shinsengumi's reputation, even if it takes me the rest of my life. I want to write our story, our side of events."

"You want to publish a book?"

"Yes, or at least to make a record of our history and accomplishments. We were the last and greatest group of swordsmen in our country's history. I will always be proud of that fact, even if the samurai have been cast off onto the scrap heap in this new Meiji era."

"Last and greatest? You're overdoing the theatrics."

"No, I'm not." Nagakura sipped his sake. "The Shinsengumi were samurai among samurai. And I want people to understand that."

"For the sake of your children."

"And yours too, Saitou-kun." Nagakura looked slyly at Saitou.

Saitou pointedly ignored Nagakura's comment. He would neither confirm nor deny his friend's suspicions – and in any case, it was too early to be sure – and Nagakura knew that it would be boorish to pry further.

When Tokio served them their dinner, Nagakura filled in more details about his endeavors. A proper grave for Kondō's final resting place and a memorial site for other members; it would take a considerable amount of money and organization to realize his plan. Matsumoto Ryōjun, the former personal physician to the Shogun and Shinsengumi doctor, had the necessary connections in government and now, thanks to Saitou, he had more leads on possible financial support. By the end of the meal, they were reminiscing about their days in Kyoto; Nagakura could not resist bringing up their first encounter with Tokio, which inevitably led to laughter about the second.

"And Saitou with his bloody nose! How rude was he!"

"Well, some things have not changed much, Nagakura-sama."

"The pair of you always reminded me of clucking chickens, do you know that?" Saitou feigned annoyance at their banter.

The hours flew by as they recalled one story after another, about Okita, about Harada, about all the scrapes they had been dragged into by the two troublemakers. While Saitou had been closest to Okita, Nagakura had been closest to Harada; opposites will attract, and the cool, levelheaded Second Captain had been a good foil for the exuberant and clownish Eighth Captain. It was a bittersweet night, laden with the promise of the new lives that they had been granted, the weight of past lives that they held dearly, the pain of their fallen comrades, and good wishes of those that had survived. Nagakura finally departed late in the night; they saw him as far as the garden gates, Tokio bowing and waving after their guest. The man who now called himself Fujita Gorō wound his arm around his wife's shoulders as Nagakura disappeared around the corner.

"Nagakura-sama is a good man." She had very much enjoyed his visit.

"He always was."

"And he means to do right by the Commander and his old comrades."

"Aah." He drew her in closer to him.

"As do you." Tokio leaned against him as they walked back to the house.

"Hmph, I couldn't be bothered going to so much trouble. And to think he intends to write a book too. Who the hell is going to publish a book about the Shinsengumi in this day and age?"

"Maybe not today, or anytime soon, but I for one hope that one day, people will know the truth – about the Shinsengumi, about Kondō-sensei, about all of you."

"Hah. I don't need a book written about me." It was enough for him to live out their legacy, to continue to uphold their ideals every day.

"Fufufu, you always were a difficult man to read." In the dim light of the lantern, Tokio's eyes seemed to sparkle in the darkness.

"That was a terrible joke, woman." In the dim light of the lantern, the sharp lines of his face seemed softer.

"Oh, you don't agree?" They stepped back inside the house.

"If I wasn't a challenge, would you even have taken an interest in me?" He tried to turn the questions on her.

"I was always told that I had bad taste in men." Tokio sighed with resignation.

"Tokio –" His voice dropped to a growl.

"Isn't it a shame that it wasn't Nagakura-sama who caught me outside the Koumyouji compound that night?" She teased him with a chuckle. "To think how different my life could have been – Kya!"

She was entirely unprepared when her husband picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like she was a sack of rice.

"I think I need to show you just how bad your taste in men is."

They had been married for almost two years, and committed to each other for over twelve; yet despite how well they had come to know the other over all that time, every day they continued to learn new things about their lives together. For all those years that they had been kept apart, they had dreamed of this life, and how fortunate for them that so far, they liked the reality better than the dream. They still had so much left to discover, about marriage, about family – and all the happiness they felt now was made that much dearer by the sorrows they had had to endure before.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), late May – Tokyo, Itabashi =

Eiji drew closer to the woman who walked beside him as he noticed some rough-looking men leering at her. He had thought that the post town would be similar to Numazu but he had underestimated the sheer number of people in Tokyo. They were now on the outskirts of the city, where the roads were flanked by rice fields and vegetable farms, and most of the buildings were inns or bath houses catering to the needs of travelers on the Nakasendō. Post towns were well policed and trouble was unlikely, but he knew that women traveling alone or accompanied only by children were unusual, and he knew that his guardian tended to attract people's gazes. He kept a tight hold of Muku's leash; the dog seemed unperturbed by the clamor about her, trotting obediently alongside her family. If anything, the large Akita dog drew more glances than her mistress and other people on the highway gave them a wider berth than they might otherwise have done on a crowded road.

Tsutomu was fussing on his mother's back, intrigued by all the different sights. Tokio shifted his weight, and noticing that Eiji appeared tense, smiled at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I know it's far and you must be tired." She slowed her pace.

"No, I'm not tired. I just can't seem to get used to all the people in Tokyo." Eiji wondered that she was not tired herself; she was a slight woman and the day was growing hot, yet she showed barely any sign of fatigue. "Do you want me to carry Tsutomu for a while?" He offered.

"Thank you – and maybe I'll ask you to help on the way back, but we're almost there now." She fixed the strings of her hat underneath her chin. "It's a fun place though, isn't it?"

'Fun' was one way of putting it, he supposed; people from every walk of life passed each other on the Nakasendō, of which Itabashi was the first post town from Tokyo. Merchants, couriers, government officials, peddlers, farmers, street performers, and of course the prostitutes –- that was how many women in the post towns earned their keep. When a man catcalled to Tokio, Eiji felt his face grow hot that she was being disrespected. Tokio, on the other hand, carried on unruffled. Noticing that Eiji was glaring fiercely at the lout, she gently steered him along.

"I'm glad that you came with me," she murmured to him, touched by his protective manner.

"It would have been better if Morinosuke-san or Kenjirō-san could have come with us," Eiji grumbled.

"Yes, but they both have to work. You and Muku are more than enough company for me." She tried to reassure him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Tsutomu seized the opportunity to grab a fistful of Eiji's hair.

"Owowowow! Stop that!" Eiji disentangled himself and took a few steps back.

"Oh dear. I'm sorry, Eiji-san. He's getting a little restless." She bounced her son on her back, trying to get him to settle down. "Look Tsutomu, there's the temple. We're almost there, so be good."

It was a small temple, with only a few monks. They obviously knew Tokio and appeared to have been expecting her. Eiji did not pay too much attention to the grown-up talk, being busy playing with Tsutomu and Muku in the courtyard. They were served tea and refreshments, and the abbot was clearly enjoying Tokio's conversation. Eiji caught snippets of their conversation.

"…. still some vandalism, but in fact there are more people who leave offerings…."

"…. Sugimura-sama has made clear that he wishes for his own grave to be erected next to it…."

Though they had set out early from the house, it was already mid-morning when Tokio took her leave, carrying a bucket, some flowers from the temple garden, and oddly enough, some gardening tools.

"Is the grave not here?" Eiji asked perplexed as they left the temple grounds.

"No, Kondō-sensei was not afforded the right to a temple burial back then." Tokio shook her head. "It's a little bit further away."

Eiji walked after her, noting that the road led away from the town, towards quiet fields and grassland. After a short while, a tall stone pillar came into view. Eiji drew in his breath as they approached: carved into its face were two names, Kondō Isami and Hijikata Toshizō.

The gravesite was in a secluded location, with hardly anyone passing by. One almost forgot that they were close to a busy town. Although the monks at the temple cared for the site from time to time, the plot had filled with weeds and creeping vines attempting to overrun the ground. Tokio told Eiji that he could take Tsutomu and Muku to play nearby, but not to go too far.

"I'd rather help," Eiji said in a quiet voice.

Tokio looked at him gratefully and gave him some instructions. With their small trowels and scythes, they set to their tasks. Tsutomu chased some grasshoppers that they disturbed, and was fascinated by a ladybird that crawled onto his hand.

"Why are there two names on the grave? I thought you said Hijikata Toshizō died in Hokkaidō?"

"Nagakura-sama decided that it should be so – that it would not be right to honor one without the other."

They talked a little while they worked.

"What's this big stone over here?" Eiji asked as he struggled to remove a dandelion plant next to it.

"That's the original marker for where his body was buried," Tokio looked over her shoulder at him. Eiji blanched at her words. "I hope you're not frightened – his family removed the remains some time ago. They've kept it a secret, for fear of retaliation, so this is still regarded as his grave. But there's no body beneath that stone."

Eiji was somewhat ashamed of his reaction; after all, he knew that this was a place of peace for the Fujitas. He stood up and straightened his back before trying to tackle the stubborn plant again. Looking around, he noticed a few other stone markers.

"What are those other stones?"

"There are some unfortunate souls that pass away in the town, with no known family or relatives. They are buried out here too."

"That seems very lonely…." After his recent experiences, Eiji felt a profound sympathy for the deceased.

A cloud passed over Tokio's face, and it dawned on Eiji how terrible it must have been for the Shinsengumi that their leader had been buried in such a place, and under such ignoble circumstances. He understood the urge that had led them to build this grave, to commemorate the man they had respected and followed.

Once the plot was tidy, Tokio filled the bucket in a nearby stream. She poured the water over the grave to wash it of dust and dirt and filled the vases at its base. Eiji watched as she carefully arranged the flowers.

"Come Tsutomu, you must say your prayers for your father's Commander." She beckoned to her son. Even if the young boy did not really understand her words, he could tell that his mother was serious and he dutifully copied her movements. She helped him place the incense in the small alcove. "You don't remember, but we came here together last year. Oh, your father was gone far away then too…." She smiled sadly as Tsutomu bowed his head in front of the grave.

She saw that Eiji had already put his palms together in prayer, though he turned to her for approval. She nodded in appreciation. Eiji prayed with all the sincerity that he could muster.

'Kondō-sensei, I know you don't know me and I don't know you, but I want you to know that the Fujitas have never forgotten about you. Please watch over them, and please watch over Fujita-san on his dangerous assignment. He's going after the mad man who killed my family and is terrorizing the country. I think you'd be pretty proud of him, from what I've heard. Help him come home safely, to Tokio-san and Tsutomu-kun, and Muku. And I hope you are resting in peace.'

When he looked up, Tokio's head was still bowed, her eyes still closed. He imagined that she was praying for the same things that he had.

A soothing breeze blew across his cheeks as he watched a pair of white ibises wheeling down from the sky into a nearby rice field. Frogs croaked in the creeks, crickets chirped in the grass, and a sense of tranquility filled him. He was glad he had come.

He turned at the sound of Tokio's voice.

"Eiji-san, thank you again for coming with me today. You were a great help," she bowed to him with a smile. "I'm sure you must be hungry after all that hard work. Let's get some lunch in town before we head home."

Eiji grinned at her and helped her gather up the bucket (which was now filled with weeds) and the tools.

"Tokio-san, you said you would tell me more about the Shinsengumi."

"Yes, of course. What would you like to know?" She sounded pleased.

"How did you first meet them?" He bent down to give Tsutomu a piggyback ride.

"Oh, let's see. The first time I actually met them was when they stumbled into my quarters at night, about 15 years ago." She chuckled softly as her son clambered onto her foster son's back.

"What?!" Eiji's eyes grew round with astonishment; the situation sounded veritably scandalous.

"Yes, I think they were looking for the lavatories, if I recall." A few strands of hair had become loose, framing her face, and she brushed them back behind her ear. "Then the second time I met them, Danna-sama had a nosebleed."

"You made his nose bleed?!" A nosebleed had certain connotations that even a young boy was aware of.

"Oh dear, I'm telling this all wrong." The twinkle in her eye gave away that she was deliberately having some fun. "Still, it's true – that's what happened."

Now that the day's duty had been completed, she was more relaxed, and she answered his questions about the beginnings of the Shinsengumi and how she had gotten to know them well through her work for the Aizu-han. She talked gaily about the different captains, especially about the First Captain, Okita Souji, and she talked seriously about the difficult task of maintaining the peace in Kyoto. Eiji enjoyed hearing about the Ikedaya Affair and about other tales of their exploits; as with most boys, he liked stories that had a lot of adventure.

"So they were the good guys, right?" Eiji asked with some emphasis.

Tokio paused before she answered.

"They were good men, or at least, most of them were. But in battle, it is not always a case of good versus evil." She smiled at him ruefully. "Himura Kenshin, for example, do you think he is a good man?"

"Yes," Eiji said with conviction.

"I think he must be too. And yet, that man has a terribly dark past. And my husband, he is the best man that I know, and he has always strived to do what is right – but I am under no illusions that he can be terrifying and ruthless. They used to be the fiercest of foes, but now, they are working together to stop a man who used to fight for the same side as Himura Battousai."

Eiji looked troubled at her words, and Tokio worried that what she had said might be too heavy for the youth to grasp. They walked in silence for a while, but then, Eiji spoke again.

"I think I understand – that things aren't as simple as black and white. But I've decided," he looked up resolutely at Tokio, "I don't care what other people say about the Shinsengumi. They must have been the good guys, because you and Fujita-san are good people. And I think that I understand that Fujita-san is still a Shinsengumi Captain, even though he's now a police officer."

A tender warmth spread through Tokio's heart as she smiled at her young ward.

"Thank you, Eiji-san. It means the world to me to hear you say that." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Now, what would you like to eat?"

In the back of her mind, Tokio could almost hear Nagakura's words.

"_I won't have them feel ashamed of my past. I want them to be able to hold their heads up high, and know that all that we did, we did for the sake of the country…."_

There was no need to worry; tell them the truth, and their children would be proud of them.

* * *

##############

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thank you very much for bearing with another monstrously long chapter. To everyone who left a review for the last chapter, I am incredibly grateful for the encouragement (I think I replied to all the reviews with contact details/that allow PMs but forgive me if I missed anyone please).

I have a few announcements to make: **  
**

**= Chapter 3 of Eeni's doujinshi for CLT is up! **

**= CLT has a spinoff fanfic, by author Arget Cross! "The Funny Threads of Life": **It details a chance meeting around Meiji Year 20, and it's wonderfully written. I was delighted when I read it as it fit into the timeline so well, and the character portrayals were spot on. I hope other people will enjoy it too!

= **The MKR Tumblr will take submissions for RK fanworks! **

**See profile page for details. **

I hope readers enjoyed Chapter 2, despite the lack of appearances by other RK characters. They will be included, I swear, as this 'parallel timeline' of the Kyoto-hen progresses. When I say parallel, I'm using the term loosely - after all, a lot of scenes are taken up by flashbacks. I do intend to go back to the actual beginning of the RK timeline (when Kenshin first appears in Tokyo), but it will take a while. I want to write about how Saitou first found out that Kenshin had survived and was in Tokyo; about his investigations into the Kurogasa murders, Raijuta, Takeda Kanryu; about what they might have talked about in the carriage from Kyoto to Osaka (that's at least a few hours) or on their way to Shishio's lair (another few hours). I will be eagerly waiting for any comments, criticisms, or even suggestions. I'm so happy to talk to fellow fans about RK! I appreciate reader's indulging my fantasies very much. (That's what this whole thing is, after all).

As for why I picked up Nagakura as a major figure in this chapter, I have several reasons. One is of course that he was the only other Shinsengumi Captain alive during the Meiji period, and he really did work hard to build Kondō's grave. He also wrote memoirs, which are seen as very important primary sources for Shinsengumi historians. Although he wrote that he had hardly any connections to Saitou in the Meiji period, I interpreted that as Saitou trying to keep a low profile and his name off the records for the sake of this narrative. Another major reason why I included Nagakura is that in interviews, Watsuki-sensei has said that he actually planned on writing a Hokkaidō Arc, with Nagakura as a key character. Considering that Watsuki ended up sending Saitou to Hokkaidō in Meiji 15 (the omake manga he wrote), I couldn't resist. Also, Tokio would have been very early on into her pregnancy in April 1876 (Tsutomu was born in December).

Again, there are extended historical/cultural notes on the tumblr page (pictures, photos, and even a very cool kendo video!). I hope readers will take an interest if they have the time. I'm happy to answer any questions so please drop me a line if there's anything you didn't understand or would like to know more about. Thank you again and I hope to hear from you!


	4. Chapter 3 - A Hitokiri and a Rurouni

_Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is purely fiction based in part on historical facts._

**Meiji Keikan Romantan **

* * *

**Chapter 3 – A Hitokiri and A Rurouni **

*** There are various flashbacks and scene changes in this chapter. The dates and places are labeled at the beginning of each section. **

* * *

###################################

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early June – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward =

"Don't trip on your way home." The tofu seller cautioned Eiji as he handed him the bamboo basket of fresh tofu. "And tell Fujita-san that I put in a little extra for her."

Eiji thanked the man and noted to himself that his foster mother was quite popular among the local shopkeepers. As he stepped out from under the awning and into the bright light of the street, Muku instantly got to her feet and wagged her tail. He could not help but smile – even if he had been gone for only a few minutes, the dog always seemed happy to see him.

It was his second week in Tokyo, and he was beginning to find his way around the neighborhood on his own and to run errands for Tokio. Neighbors were starting to recognize him also, and some people tried to pry about his circumstances; whereas Tokio artfully sidestepped nosy questions, Eiji's reaction was to keep silent. Eiji knew that it was for his sake that Tokio did not indulge the neighbors' curiosity. She did not want him to become the object of morbid attention as the 'tragic orphan child', nor did she wish to garner any sympathy or admiration for having taken him in. For the most part though, the Fujitas were on good terms with the people in their district; Eiji had learned that Fujita Gorō had single-handedly apprehended several thieves and criminals in the area, and Tokio was often consulted on the subjects of children's education and women's fashion.

As he walked back to the house, a few people called out to say hello. He returned their greetings while mentally running through their names. He passed a group of children playing in a temple courtyard, and they paused in their games to watch him as he walked by. He glanced over his shoulder before turning the corner, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation in his heart. While he did not feel ready to make friends just yet (and needed a bit more study before he could start school), he nonetheless felt the pull of childhood at the sound of the gleeful shouts and calls. He was mulling over these thoughts when Muku bounded off down the street.

"Ah!" Startled, Eiji almost dropped the tofu. He hurried after the dog, and watched in surprise as the she yipped excitedly and circled a man he did not recognize.

"Oho!" The man crouched down and ruffled the dog's head affectionately. "Good girl, Muku. Where's your mistress?" He looked around expectantly, but the only person he saw was a lone boy with harsh lines around his eyes. Muku sat down, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she panted. "Ah, is that so?" The man talked to the dog as though they understood each other.

"You must be Mishima Eiji-kun," the stranger now addressed the youth. Eiji's eyes narrowed suspiciously; Muku obviously knew and liked the man, but that did not explain how he knew his name. "Don't be nervous. I've heard about you from Kenjirō and Morinosuke." The man said reassuringly and pulled playfully on Muku's ears. "Where's Tokio-san?"

"She's at home." Eiji relaxed a little at the mention of Takagi Morinosuke and his friend; Morinosuke had visited a couple of times, and Kenjirō had shown him around the University of Tokyo. "She asked me to buy some things for dinner."

"Ah, bossy as usual, always making people do things." the man chuckled.

The boy stiffened again at his words. Tokio was encouraging him to be more independent and responsible, which was why she allowed him to go to the shops on his own, not because she thought of him as an errand boy.

"And who are you?" Eiji demanded somewhat forcefully.

"Me? Yamakawa Hiroshi – I'm Kenjirō's older brother, and an old friend of the family." Yamakawa smiled broadly and straightened up, looking down at Eiji with an appraising look in his eye.

"You're the one in the Imperial Army?" Eiji looked up at the man with interest. He had heard about the older Yamakawa brother, and he recognized the inflections of the Aizu dialect in his voice. He also knew that the Yamakawas had been one of the most prominent families in Aizu, and had a long history with the Fujitas.

"Yes, that's me. I was just on my way to pay a visit. Do you want me to take that for you?" Yamakawa indicated the basket underneath Eiji's arm.

"No, it's fine." Eiji shook his head, and began to walk, Muku trotting along beside him. "But how did you know that it was me and not some other kid?"

"Because Muku wouldn't leave the house with someone who isn't a member of the family." Yamakawa followed, a half step behind. Eiji puffed up a little at the acknowledgement that Muku regarded him as a member of the family. "How do you like Tokyo so far?"

"It's different." Eiji answered guardedly. If Yamakawa knew about his background, then he must know that it was not a matter of choice that he was there. "I've never lived in a city before."

"Yeah, I remember how it was when I first came." Yamakawa nodded. "And how do you like living with the Fujitas?"

"…. They've been very kind to me." Eiji replied after a pause, wary of talking to a stranger, whether he was a family friend or not.

"But they're weird, aren't they?" Yamakawa grinned conspiratorially at Eiji. At that, Eiji tightened his lips and glared. "What is it?" The man seemed amused by his reaction.

"Fujita-san told me not to talk about the family to others." Eiji declared with a frown.

Yamakawa blinked rapidly a few times, and then burst out laughing.

"Ahaha! That's so like him, that man." Yamakawa did not seem put out. "Well, don't worry, you don't need to tell me anything. In fact, I could tell you some funny stories about them…."

An alarmed expression flitted across Eiji's face and he hurried on. He could not decide whether he liked this man with his familiar attitude, but at the very least, he was not in a mood to hear anything that might embarrass the Fujitas.

Muku ran ahead as they approached the house, barking to announce their arrival. Tokio was washing the flagstones of the garden path as they opened the gate (in truth, she had been waiting somewhat anxiously for Eiji to return) and exclaimed as she saw who had come with her young ward.

"Okaerinasai, Eiji-san. My, you picked up an unusual person at the shops!" Tokio smiled warmly as she welcomed the boy home.

"It's been a while," Yamakawa bobbed his head in an informal bow. "You keeping well? And Tsutomu?"

"We're very well, thank you. Tsutomu is taking a nap." She set down the bucket beside the front entrance. "When did you get back to Tokyo?" Tokio had heard from the younger Yamakawa brother that he was away on business, and she knew that her husband had requested his assistance.

"Just yesterday. I told your husband that I'd keep an eye on you, and make sure you're not letting any strange men into the house while he's away."

"In that case, I couldn't possibly let you inside." Tokio arched an eyebrow at her visitor.

"Hey!" Her childhood friend protested. "Fine then, I guess you're not interested in hearing about my work with him, or in this gift from Kobe." He held out a wrapped parcel.

"Hmmm. Well, I guess I could at least serve you tea." Tokio inclined her head to the side with a teasing twinkle in her eye. "Eiji-san, thank you very much for going to the shops. No no, I can take those to the kitchen." She took the purchases from him as he was about to step inside the house. "Could I ask you to show Hiroshi-san to the main room?"

Yamakawa clearly knew his way around the house and did not need to be guided, but Eiji accompanied him as he was told. Finding himself alone with the man again, Eiji studied him in what he thought was a discreet manner. At first, Yamakawa pretended not to notice, but soon opened his mouth – he was not a man to keep quiet for long.

"What is it, Eiji-kun?" The boy's inquisitiveness caused him to remember his own youth, when he too had been full of questions for the grown-ups but rarely allowed to speak his mind.

Eiji hesitated for a moment, but then asked with characteristic directness,

"You said you were working with Fujita-san. Did he mention anything about me?"

Although he tried hard to mask the pain, Eiji was still plagued with dark thoughts about Senkaku and Shishio Makoto; the trauma was not one that would heal in the space of a few weeks. Tokio had promised to keep him apprised of any developments, but news about her husband's covert mission was not something she received every day.

"Well, I helped him out with some personnel management, but I doubt that's what you're interested in. Why, were you waiting to hear something?" Yamakawa cocked his head and looked at the boy intently.

"No, not really…" Eiji's voice dropped to a mumble, tinted by a mix of disappointment and frustration.

'This boy – so he really was involved in Fujita's current assignment,' Yamakawa wondered to himself. He debated whether to ask about it, but was stopped when Tokio entered the room.

"So this is Kameido's famous kawara senbei. Thank you very much, Hiroshi-san." She set down the tray of tea things and the opened the box of snacks that Yamakawa had brought from Kobe.

"Actually, Fujita gave them to me to bring back." Yamakawa grinned. "That man spoils you rotten."

"Nice gifts are one of the perks of having a husband who travels." Tokio chuckled appreciatively. "So, he's in Kobe at the moment?"

Yamakawa was about to answer, but was interrupted by the boy.

"Why is he in Kobe? He's supposed to be going to Kyoto." Eiji furrowed his brow; that was what Shishio had said to them in Shingetsu-mura, that he would be waiting for them in the old capital.

A look passed between Tokio and Eiji, and Eiji turned red due to embarrassment that he had spoken out of turn. Tokio, however, simply smiled at him kindly.

"Kyoto eh?" Yamakawa stroked his chin. "Interesting. So what's in Kyoto that needs to be subjugated?"

"I presume he's in Kobe for some training?" Tokio avoided the question. "He did mention that you were going to help him assemble the necessary forces."

"Let's see, he's taking the best swordsmen in the military and police with him to deal with some unknown element in Kyoto." Yamakawa smacked his knee. "It can't be…. He's going to fight against Himura Battousai?!" He leaned forward, agitated by his deduction. "It makes sense! He's been worked up ever since that damned Hitokiri reappeared! Going to bring him to justice, eh?"

"Himura-san is a good person!" Eiji could not stop himself from blurting out. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

Yamakawa's eyes grew wide with astonishment at Eiji's exclamation.

"Hiroshi-san, I'm afraid you're off the mark." Tokio said in a soft voice, reaching out to place a soothing hand on Eiji's shoulder.

The boy turned a darker shade of red than before, and he was acutely aware that Yamakawa was staring at him as though he had grown another head.

"Em, excuse me – I'm going to check on Tsutomu-kun." Eiji hastily rose to his feet.

"But Tsutomu is still sleeping, it's alright –" Before Tokio could stop him, Eiji dashed out of the room.

Silence hung in the air after the boy's abrupt exit. Yamakawa scratched his head and looked out onto the garden. The hydrangea bushes were beginning to bloom in anticipation of the coming rainy season. It reminded him of the inner courtyard of the old Takagi estate in Wakamatsu; Tokio had designed it in memory of the happy days of a bygone era. Muku dozed in the shade under a small maple tree, ears moving to and fro at the sounds around her.

The water in the kettle had heated up and Tokio filled the teapot.

"I'm sorry that I upset the boy," Yamakawa spoke after she had served the tea. "He seems like a good kid."

"He is a good child," Tokio said with feeling, "but he has been through a terrible experience." She lowered her eyes and sighed.

"So, how does the Hitokiri Battousai fit into the picture?" Yamakawa could not let that subject slide.

"Shame on you, Taizou." She only used his childhood nickname when she wanted to scold him. "If Danna-sama did not tell you, what makes you think I would?" She sniffed, and stoked the charcoal in the hibachi. "And in any case, you should know that he would hardly need to call upon any extra forces if his target was simply Himura Battousai."

"Haha, as proud of him as ever, aren't you?" Yamakawa ribbed.

"I have every right to be," she responded unabashedly.

"Well, there's no denying that he's been restless ever since I told him that the Battousai had resurfaced after all these years." Yamakawa sipped his tea, recalling the conversation from a few months back.

"These kawara senbei are good!" Tokio took a bite and remarked, in an obvious attempt to change the conversation.

"Sada-chan," Yamakawa clicked his tongue in exasperation, using her childhood name in turn. "Come on, what do you think I do for a living? I handle sensitive government information every day. And I know that Minister Yamagata offered Himura Battousai a high-level position at the ministry, but the fool turned it down. I mean, I can't say I was upset about that – I don't think that even I would be comfortable working with the most famous murderer of the Bakumatsu."

Tokio bowed her head slightly; the Ishin Shishi might hold Himura Kenshin in high esteem as a hero of the Meiji Restoration, but it was clear that he did not regard himself as such. And although Yamakawa Hiroshi had never met the man who had played such a bloody part in the downfall of the Bakufu, his reputation among the samurai of Aizu was not flattering.

"I presumed he had a falling out with the government bigwigs – but you're telling me that he's not the one stirring up trouble?" Yamakawa persisted in trying to find out more. Tokio relented a little.

"All I can tell you now is that Himura Battousai is not at odds with the government. He happened to cross paths with Eiji when his life was in danger, and he helped him until Danna-sama arrived." She met Yamakawa's keen eyes. "And no, he is not the enemy."

"Perhaps not." Yamakawa contemplated what she had said for a moment. "But to a Captain of the Shinsengumi, and to the people of Aizu, he could hardly be considered a friend."

They drank their tea in silence, both wrapped in their own thoughts. In the garden, a mejiro bird broke out into song, causing Muku to lift up her head and sniff the air. The bright light of day clouded over and the skies threatened to break. The country would soon be veiled by the dull rains of the monsoon, but the water would replenish the land, bringing forth fresh blooms and the bright green of the rice fields.

* * *

_= Meiji Year 11 (1878), February – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward = _

The day had enough of winter's bite left that Fujita Gorō almost regretted stepping out for lunch. However, it had been months since he had last seen Yamakawa Hiroshi, and the invitation to soba was a welcome respite from being cooped up at the station all day. He ducked inside the restaurant and was greeted genially by the former Aizu commander.

"Good to see you!"

"Welcome back to Tokyo." Fujita sat down opposite his friend.

"How's the family?"

"They're fine. Tokio sends her regards; she wants you to come by soon."

"And Tsutomu-kun?" By a quirk of fate, Yamakawa had been the one who named the Fujitas' firstborn, and he was as fond of the infant as any man could be of another man's child.

"He's a handful. We haven't had a moment's peace since he learnt to walk." There was a hint of smugness to Fujita's griping that did not escape his friend's notice. "And how's yours?"

"Same old, same old." Yamakawa sighed with mock weariness.

"I'll have the usual," Fujita said to the waitress who was setting down their teas and hot hand towels.

"Do you ever order anything besides kakesoba?" Yamakawa asked rhetorically. "I'll have the daily special please." He wiped his hands on the towel.

"I was surprised to get your note yesterday – thought they would keep you in Kagoshima for longer." Fujita spoke after the woman disappeared into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I just got back a few days ago – I accompanied Minister Yamagata. I'm glad to be away from that chaos at last." It had been less than half a year since the end of the Seinan War, and the country was still reeling from the turmoil. "There's still a tough slog ahead to get the government back on track."

"How much time do you have today?" While Saitou was allowed to set his own schedule for the most part, there was a mountain of work to see to regarding his latest assignment.

"Same as you – not too long. But there was something I wanted to talk to you about as soon as possible." Yamakawa said in a serious tone.

"If it's about Teru Hime's blasted garden party, I already told Tokio that I'm not going." Fujita growled in irritation.

"Oh come on, don't leave me on my own at such a stuffy event! At least we can drink some quality sake at the Dragon Lady's expense." Yamakawa made an expression of supplication.

"It's not nearly enough compensation for putting up with that woman's vanity." Fujita snorted at the suggestion. "In any case, I'm busy with work. You make your own excuses."

"Ah, if I could do that…." Yamakawa was hardly in a position to refuse the princess; unlike Fujita, he was a born and bred retainer of Aizu. "But no, that's not what I wanted to talk about." He glanced around the room to make sure that nobody else was in earshot, and lowered his voice. "The Hitokiri Battousai has reappeared, here in Tokyo."

Fujita narrowed his eyes, and exhaled sharply.

"Did you not get my message that those killings were the work of a fake?"

A couple of months ago, when a man claiming to be the Hitokiri Battousai began attacking people indiscriminately, Fujita had been asked to examine the bodies and crime scenes. He had immediately determined that the murders were not committed by his old nemesis.

"_The swordsmanship is extremely crude; there's just no comparison. Unless we're to assume that the Battousai has lost his skills as well as his mind, there's nothing to suggest that he's the perpetrator._"

That had been his conclusion in his report to Commissioner Kawaji, and he had handed off the investigation. Afterwards, he heard that Lieutenant Inspector Ujiki had been assigned to the taskforce. '_Let the frog in the well eat the small fry_', he had thought at the time. Ujiki openly disliked Fujita (though that in itself was not unusual), at times disparaging his ties to Aizu, and the feeling was mutual. The Satsuma man had previously challenged him to a kendō match; Fujita had obliged, and proven that his special status on the force was indeed merited.

For the moment, however, Fujita was in charge of more pressing issues in his portfolio. Ever since the end of the Seinan War, dark rumors were afoot and he had only recently confirmed a most disturbing piece of information. A different ghost from the past, one that had been shrouded in utmost secrecy, had risen from the dead. Even he had been surprised to learn about Shishio Makoto, the man who took over Himura Battousai's role as an assassin when Himura stepped out from the shadows onto the frontlines. Although he had been aware that another assassin was operating in the later years of the Bakumatsu, to put a name to the deeds after all these years fueled conflicting emotions. Frustration that they had not been able to prevent the assassinations in Kyoto a decade ago. Satisfaction in finding another piece of the puzzle. Irritation that his superiors still tightly guarded intelligence that they only disclosed to him on a need-to-know basis. And not least, anticipation: this was a battle worthy of the Wolf of Mibu.

Having casually dismissed Yamakawa's scoop, he was caught entirely off guard by his friend's next statement.

"It just so happens that the fake lured out the real thing. Yamagata-kyo met with him two days ago. Red hair, cross-shaped scar and all."

Fujita froze as the news sank in. The waitress brought out their food, but he remained still with his eyes fixed on Yamakawa, silent as his mind raced.

"Your soba will get cold." Yamakawa said in an offhand manner, aware of the impact his words were having on the man seated across the table.

"The details," Fujita demanded.

"There was an incident involving a lieutenant inspector of the police force, I think his name was Ujiki–"

"That fool." Fujita snorted at the mention of the name.

"Well, he was throwing his weight around the downtown district, and threatened the Battousai and his companion without realizing who he was. Yamagata-kyo arrived on the scene just as the Battousai took him down." Yamakawa took a bite of his noodles.

Fujita's furrowed his brow and clenched his fists.

"He killed Ujiki?" News like that would normally have spread like wildfire throughout the force, but he had heard nothing.

Yamakawa did not answer straight away, taking the time to swallow his food.

"No, and this is the thing – there were about ten police officers who challenged the Battousai, and they couldn't land a scratch on him. But it seems that he's using a reverse-blade sword so not one of them suffered lasting injury." Yamakawa's tone was incredulous, despite the fact that he was the one telling the tale.

"A sakabatou?" Fujita's voice rose. "Ridiculous." It did not faze him in the least that the Battousai had taken on so many opponents and won, but he could not even begin to imagine the deadly assassin wielding such an impractical weapon.

"I couldn't believe it either. I wouldn't have believed it, except that it came straight from Yamagata-kyo's mouth." Yamakawa shook his head.

"You said this happened two days ago?" Fujita's mind was a whirl as he digested the information.

"I contacted you as soon as I heard." Yamakawa noticed that Fujita had yet to touch his food.

"And what did Minister Yamagata do?" Fujita reached for his cigarettes, something he usually refrained from doing during a meal.

"Apparently, the minister has been looking for Himura Battousai for years. He offered him a high ranking position in the Imperial Army." Yamakawa paused, watching as Fujita struck a match and lit the tobacco. "The Battousai turned it down."

Fujita coughed, having inhaled too quickly. Despite the key role the Hitokiri Battousai had played during the Bakumatsu, it was true that he had never wielded his sword for personal or political gain. However, turning down a position from the Minister of the Army was not something to be done lightly.

"So, any idea what he's been doing all this time?" Fujita exhaled, the smoke drifting in coils towards the ceiling.

"Now, that would be in your purview, wouldn't it?" Yamakawa raised an eyebrow, recognizing that Fujita's eye had a gleam in them that he had not seen since the Boshin War. "But I will say, don't be reckless." Yamakawa lifted up the bowl and took a sip of the soup. "Your wife would never forgive me if she thought I incited you to do something rash."

"I never do anything rash," Fujita answered coolly, although his dining partner was not convinced.

Indeed, this revelation would need to be handled with the utmost care and forethought. Questions crowded into his mind: why was the Battousai wielding a sakabatou; what had he been doing all these years; what business did he have in Tokyo; and what did Fujita himself, both as a lieutenant inspector of the police and as the Third Captain of the Shinsengumi, want to do about it?

For the first time in his life, Fujita Gorō left his soba untouched and growing cold. No matter how many cigarettes he smoked, it did nothing to calm his agitation. As they parted ways, Yamakawa thought that he had never seen the man so distracted from the present and yet incredibly focused at the same time. Even as they promised to drink together another night, Yamakawa knew that the reunion between the two veterans of the Battle of Aizu and the Seinan War was completely overshadowed by news of the Hitokiri Battousai. Despite the large workload currently on his plate, Fujita would no doubt set himself to finding out all that he could about Himura's current situation. He was not considered the best agent in the police force for nothing, and Yamakawa felt a pang of apprehension at the thought of a possible confrontation between the man formerly known as Saitou Hajime and the legendary Hitokiri.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early June – Osaka =

Lieutenant Inspector Fujita Gorō was a formidable character, just as the rumors said, thought the agent who had come to deliver the latest report from Kyoto. It was the first time meeting him in person, but as a government operative, one of the prerequisites of doing surveillance work was being an astute judge of character.

"You said your name was Taguchi," Fujita addressed the agent without lifting his eyes from the page. "Did you witness the incident yourself?"

"From a distance," Taguchi answered briefly, trying to keep his nervousness from showing. Taguchi was a spy, not a soldier, and his survival depended on his ability to keep out of trouble, not be a part of it. There was no doubt in his mind: the senior officer was as deadly and as dangerous as any of the targets of his operation.

"This weapon that was used," Fujita narrowed his eyes in displeasure, "Arai Shakkū's final masterpiece. There's no mistake?"

"No mistake, sir. As proof, the criminal Sawagejou Chou is currently recovering from his wounds in police custody." Taguchi was puzzled as to why Fujita appeared dissatisfied; surely he should be glad that the man was alive and therefore able to answer questions?

"Himura Kenshin left the Aoi-ya the following day, whereabouts currently unknown." Reading aloud from the file, the sentence came out as a growl.

"We are currently trying to trace his movements…." Taguchi's voice trailed off as Fujita glared at him.

"He won't be found until he wants to be." Fujita put down the papers and took out a cigarette. "The police will proceed with their own plans."

"So should we stop looking for him?" He immediately regretted the question as soon as it was out of his mouth.

"Ahou." Fujita snorted contemptuously. "A dog who walks around may still find a bone." Taguchi prickled slightly at being compared to a dog, but if Fujita noticed, he obviously did not care.

Arai Shakkū's final masterpiece was a sakabatou, a superior sakabatou to the one Himura Kenshin had carried for a decade. When Fujita had advised him to strengthen his resolve after the confrontation at Shingetsu-mura, this was not what he had meant. He began to smoke, trying to collect his thoughts. 'That fool will continue to walk the path of most resistance,' Fujita said to himself. To face Shishio with half-hearted determination would only result in death, and nothing short of death would stop Shishio. That much was clear from what he had uncovered about the man over the months and confirmed during their encounter at the village. Shishio was a man of unyielding (and twisted) ambition, and Himura's vow of 'korosazu' would only serve to shackle his own self in the coming battle. Whatever he was doing now, hiding somewhere in the mountains around Kyoto, it had better be something better than finding a new sakabatou. At the end, Fujita would have to be the one to deliver the final blow against the enemy; he could not trust a man who would not kill in a battle to the death. It irked him, it galled him more than he cared to admit, how the Hitokiri Battousai had chosen to live his life. The 'rurouni's path" was merely a way for Himura Kenshin to escape his past, and those who could not face the past could not be counted upon to face the future.

* * *

_= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early March – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward = _

It was a rare day off for her husband, and Tokio was conscious that he was watching her more attentively than usual. She wondered what was on his mind; she knew that he was debating whether to discuss some case with her or not, but in the meantime, she was making a game out of meeting him eye for eye. For the most part, it was he who turned away first, although there were times when she lost her nerve and tried to hide it by pouring tea, or picking up her sewing, or tending to their son who was playing in the garden.

At a particularly intense juncture in this unspoken competition, it was Tsutomu who broke the tension.

"Oniiii! Oniiiii!" He darted forward on his short legs, yelling, and threw some dried beans at his father who was seated on the engawa.

"Tsutomu!" Tokio hurried after him as he ran around the garden, but it was Fujita that caught him first. "Where on earth did you get those beans?" Tokio scolded him as he threw some more at his mother.

"He must have hidden some from Setsubun." Fujita held onto the boy as he tried to squirm away.

"But that was a month ago!" Tokio frowned as she picked up the beans from the ground. "… Though I guess he hasn't seen you in a while. He's certainly very excited today."

In February, their son had thoroughly enjoyed the ceremony that marked the beginning of spring. Their family had celebrated it according to tradition, and Tokio and Morinosuke had almost collapsed from laughter at the sight of Fujita wearing a demon's mask, trying to scare the young boy. Instead of being frightened, however, Tsutomu had been thrilled by this new game with his father, enthusiastically pelting him with the beans and shouting at the demon figure to leave.

"_He's got guts,"_ Fujita had been pleased, and when Morinosuke recounted the tale to the Yamakawa brothers, they all made fun of what a doting parent the fearsome Miburo had become.

That was the last time Tsutomu had played with his father, for since then, Fujita had become increasingly busy. Oftentimes, he would not come home until his son was asleep and would leave before he awoke. His wife had been most pleased when he had returned late the previous night and informed her that he would be staying at home the following day.

"Oniiiii….." Tsutomu gurgled, happy to be in his father's arms.

"Oi, you're drooling." Fujita scowled and held the boy at arms length. "Tokio, he's drooling."

"That is what babies tend to do." Tokio said wryly as she held out a handkerchief to wipe her son's chin. "He's happy that you're home."

"Hmph. And what about you?" He looked slyly at his wife. "You've done nothing but stare at me the whole day."

"_I've_ been staring at you?" She raised an eyebrow at his statement.

"Boring holes in my head, practically. So, are you happy that I'm home?" Fujita set Tsutomu down, but Tsutomu clamped onto his father's leg.

Tokio smiled indulgently as the tall, lean man tried to disengage the small bundle of energy, with little success.

"I was just thinking how happy you must be to be at home. After all, you've done nothing but stare at me today." She repeated his words back to him in jest. "I know you find me quite attractive, but it is somewhat embarrassing," she added, although she did not look the least bit embarrassed.

"I know you find me quite attractive," Fujita's mimicked and flicked a bean at her. "I don't know why you'd be embarrassed by that." The bean bounced off her forehead, causing Tsutomu to break into peals of laughter.

Tokio pursed her lips in disapproval, and rubbed her brow.

"You're setting a bad example for our son."

"That's fine – you're all the good influence that he needs." He caught her hand and pulled her towards him as he sat back down on the engawa, his son still clinging to his knees.

"My, how irresponsible of you!" Tokio exhaled exasperatedly, although she was smiling as she sat down next to him. "So, are you going to tell me whatever it is that you've been wanting to tell me?" Despite her husband's taciturn nature, she knew that he was always happier when he could confide in her.

Fujita did not answer for a while, and she added more charcoal to the hibachi as she waited patiently for him to start.

"Hitokiri Battousai." Out of habit, his hand went for the inner pocket where he kept his cigarettes, but he was not in uniform and his cigarettes were not on his person. "We're going to test him." By 'we', he meant the police department and his direct superiors.

"…. How?" She asked after a beat, keeping her voice calm and even.

"We're setting him up against Kurogasa." He glanced at her, and saw that she was biting her lip in surprise.

A couple of months ago, Fujita had investigated the assassination of a former Ishin Shishi in Shizuoka. Close to a hundred men had lost their lives or been injured in that incident. Those that had survived made very similar statements: that when Kurogasa looked into their eyes, they had been paralyzed on the spot. The fact that most of the victims experienced the same condition and the uniformity of the accounts frightened the local police; the whispers that it was due to some kind of supernatural power reached Fujita's ears. He quickly and caustically quashed the rumors; this was not witchcraft, but most likely Kurogasa was using 'Nikaidō Heihō Shin-no-Ippo'. In all his years as a swordsman, he had only ever met one man who could use that technique.

"You really think it could be Udō Jin'e?" Tokio murmured, smoothing the fabric of her kimono over her knees.

"It's a rare technique. The odds of coming across two practitioners in a lifetime would be astronomical." Fujita stared at nothing in particular, focused on an old memory in his mind's eye.

Udō Jin'e had been a member of the Shinsengumi, albeit only for a short time. When he had joined, people had kept their distance; despite his skills, he was an outlier, even in that pack of wolves. _"Udō-san always smells of death," _Okita had noted distastefully. During his time with the group, his bloodlust grew increasingly unrestrained to the point that it disrupted the organization's operations. Just before Hijikata ordered his execution, Udō fled, killing the men who were sent to pursue him. Capital punishment within the ranks often fell to Saitou Hajime to carry out, but he happened to be away in Osaka at the time. Udō was never seen by the Shinsengumi again, although reports were that he became an assassin-for-hire in the pay of Ishin Shishi. It was one assignment that Saitou regretted leaving unfulfilled.

"I only saw him once, but he disturbed me…." She said quietly. She vaguely remembered seeing Udō as part of a Shinsengumi patrol in Kyoto, and although she could not recall his face, she had not forgotten the chill that his unsettling eyes had sent down her spine. She had inquired about the man, and learned his name, and then learned about his indiscriminate violence and that he had absconded from the group.

Fujita slipped an arm around his wife's shoulders, drawing her closer, and continued.

"Kurogasa's next target is Tani Jūsanrō at the Ministry of the Army."

"Oh, the one that Hiroshi-san is always complaining about." Tokio said with some disdain.

"This way, I figure we kill two birds with one stone." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Or three – no matter which way it goes, it works out for you, doesn't it?" She lifted her feet and stretched them out in front of her.

If Himura Battousai disposed of Kurogasa, it would be fine by the police: they would not have to jeopardize any more lives against the assassin. It would allow Fujita to concentrate on the bigger and more important mission regarding Shishio Makoto. Fujita could also use the opportunity to gauge Himura's abilities; ten years had passed since their last encounter, and those years were not carried lightly. And if Tani ended up dead in the process, caught between the blades, it was no loss for Fujita – in fact, judging from what Yamakawa had said about the bumptious buffoon, Japan would be better off without him. On the other hand, if Kurogasa killed Himura, it would be an indication that his skills had declined and that he was not worth getting directly involved with. In that case, Fujita rationalized, it would just be a matter of killing Kurogasa himself.

"Do you disapprove?" He tilted his head to look at her.

"On the contrary," Tokio leaned back into him, "I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't relieved. You'll spare yourself one battle at least." Despite her absolute confidence in his abilities, Kurogasa was a madman who reveled in killing frenzies, and it was not unreasonable for her to worry about her husband facing him.

"If I didn't delegate some of my duties, I'd never get a day off," he smirked.

"A hitokiri against a hitokiri…." Tokio murmured with a slight frown. A thought dawned on her, and she pulled away from her husband slightly and fixed him with a meaningful look. "When you said that you're going to test him…." Fujita smirked at her again. "What you really meant was his resolution not to kill." Her voice was low but perfectly clear.

He paused before he responded, appreciating the fact that Tokio always understood the various nuances of a situation.

"His life as a rurouni is the life of a hypocrite." She had a way of making him talk that no other person could; perhaps it was her keen eyes that always seemed to see through to the core of him, or perhaps it was because he trusted her more than anyone else in the world. "And it resolves nothing."

Tokio nodded, although it was not entirely in agreement. Last month, when she was told about Himura Battousai's presence in the city, she had been troubled. Then, when she was told that he had spent the last ten years wandering the country as a rurouni, and that he now wielded a sakabatou, she had been astonished. It was not the life she would have ever expected for the notorious Ishin Shishi – and yet, from what little she knew about him from when they had met, all those years ago in Kyoto, she had felt strangely glad that he had not sought to profit from the Meiji Restoration.

"Do you think he lost faith in his path?" She pictured him traveling all around the land, a solitary figure on the road. The young man had been incredibly idealistic, so much so that disillusionment must have struck him terribly.

"In the past ten years, he's made no ties that I've been able to find out about." Fujita stated coolly, "He's never stayed in one place for long, and he disappears after people discover his identity. If that's not a man trying to escape his past, then it's a man whose self-indulgence is such that he contents himself with a lukewarm existence without trying to make a proper life for himself, or ever putting everything on the line."

Tokio studied her husband as she listened to his words. She understood why he was aggravated; Fujita had never been anything but proud of his past, and he was as committed as ever to his duty. He never hesitated to put everything on the line, not simply to 'help those before his eyes' but for the sake of the country, and also for the family he cherished. Although they might have been alike in some ways, the Hitokiri Battousai and Shinsengumi Captain, at the same time, they were polar opposites.

They sat in silence, and Tsutomu seized the opportunity to clamber onto his father's back. Fujita allowed him up onto his shoulders, his son's favorite vantage point. Tokio watched, her heart full of love for her husband and child, and her mind mulling over what he had said.

"Ten years is a long time…. Times have changed, and so have people." She sighed wistfully. Not everyone was as lucky as they were, to have been able to hold onto what they held most dearly. It had not been easy; they had struggled for every bit of happiness that they now enjoyed, and they were both fiercely protective of it. As a woman of Aizu, she too knew what it was like to have to kill in order to defend what was important; the war had taught her much about the value of life, and she valued the lives of her family above all. Himura Battousai could afford to be a rurouni perhaps because he had no such bonds in life. Or perhaps, as she had said to a grieving young man on a cold winter's day over a decade ago, he should never have become an assassin in the first place.

"Hmph." Fujita's lip curled contemptuously. "People's minds are fickle but their nature stays the same. You expect me to believe that he might have changed, that he is no longer the Hitokiri that he used to be?"

"The world is full of contradictions, Hajime-sama." She smiled at him in a heart wrenching way, the same smile that had won him over all those years ago. "Why, just look at yourself. One of the most terrifying men of the Bakumatsu, and yet a child has the better of you." She chuckled while Fujita scowled, but the fierceness of his glare was made that much more comical by the fact that Tsutomu had grabbed handfuls of his hair and it was now sticking out in all sorts of unnatural directions.

This was Fujita Gorō's sanctuary, this home that his wife made for him – a life that he had hardly dared to imagine, with the woman that he had always wanted to be with and the child that she had borne him. This hard won reality was the reason why he remained so committed to his duty and why he was so resolute in his stand. He would allow nothing to threaten his family, and he never felt guilty about the lengths that he went to in order to protect the peace of their every day lives. She never doubted his determination, her faith in him was unconditional, and she helped him bear the weight of it all. Regret and remorse: perhaps that was the key difference between her husband and Himura Battousai, Tokio reflected.

"Tsutomu, stop drooling on my head." The man lowered his son off his shoulders and held him upside down, as the boy yelled in delight at the rough housing.

"He's overexcited, and you're not helping." Tokio chided her husband. "Perhaps if you take him for a walk, it will tire him out and he'll take a nap."

"A walk?" At the sound of the word 'walk', Muku, who had been lying quietly beneath the engawa, scrambled up and barked eagerly. "Tch! See what you've started now?" The look in his eye belied the grumbling tone of his voice.

"Lunch will be ready when you return," Tokio ran her hands through his hair, trying to restore some semblance of respectability to the disheveled mess.

"Don't think you're getting away that easily." Fujita growled and caught her wrist playfully. "You're coming too."

"I have so much housework to finish, and food to prepare." Tokio shook her head, and it was true that there was no end to a housewife's work.

"Leave it – the house won't fall apart if you take it easy for a day. And we'll eat out for lunch." It was his rare day off after all, and he did not want her to be occupied with chores when they could be spending time together.

The family made preparations to go out, donning their spring jackets and locking up. Tsutomu refused to be carried, as headstrong as toddlers could be.

"Pity we can't put a leash on Tsutomu too, to stop him from running off," Fujita said half-jokingly as he fastened a collar around Muku's neck. Tokio gave a small laugh - she had thought the same thing on occasion.

"Where should we go for lunch?" She asked as she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders.

"There's that new soba place that opened up by the University. Morinosuke said it was good," he suggested.

"I should have guessed," Tokio sighed.

"What's wrong with soba?"

"Oh, nothing. Just that women do appreciate variety in their lives."

"Tokio…. You better not be talking about other men."

"Hajime-sama!" She pushed him out the door.

They both enjoyed it when she called him by his old name, a private moment in a private world, just for the two of them.

It was a crisp spring day, and the peach blossoms swayed in the gentle breeze. The neighbors greeted them as they walked, some remarking that it had been a while since they had seen the family all together. It was the epitome of tranquil domesticity, the only incongruous detail being the sword at the man's side.

The following day, Fujita would be back to work, gathering intelligence and setting things in motion. In a few days time, Himura Kenshin would be asked to act as a bodyguard for Tani Jūsanrō, and he would confront Kurogasa, Udō Jin'e. It would be another couple of months until the fateful encounter between the former Captain of the Shinsengumi and the Hitokiri Battousai took place. It was Meiji Year 11, but there were still fierce battles to be fought, and there were still wounds of the Bakumatsu that had yet to heal.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early June – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward =

"He said for me not to go to Itabashi on my own?" Tokio blinked a few times and sighed. "Well, I'm afraid it's too late. The three of us went just a few days ago."

"Of course you did," Yamakawa sighed too, and continued in a firm voice. "He's quite concerned about your safety this time."

"At the moment, there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary." Tokio reassured him. "The police check in on us every day, and I dare say nothing would escape the notice of Kobayashi-san around the corner."

Yamakawa grimaced; the woman Tokio referred to was a neighbor of exceedingly curious nature, and a fountain of gossip. (Tokio would describe her tactfully as 'observant', whereas Fujita had less choice words, such as 'a carbuncle of neighborly relations'.) She was quite interested in the comings and goings of the Fujitas ("the wife is too good looking to be left on her own," she had previously stopped Yamakawa on the street in order to tell him, implying that she disapproved of all the male visitors to the house while the husband was away), and could be counted on to provide a running commentary on life in the district.

"Danna-sama says that she's better than some government agents at gathering intelligence," Tokio chuckled. "She kindly informed me that there were rumors going around about Eiji's parentage – and that she had set everybody straight about the fact that he was not in fact my husband's illegitimate child." Yamakawa choked on his tea, and spluttered with laughter. "It was quite hard to keep a straight face," she added mildly.

"That's a classic…." He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. "So now, everyone's looking at you, wondering whether he brought home his mistress' child for you to raise." Yamakawa guffawed in amusement.

"Which reminds me, I should go check on him." Tokio made to get up.

"No, I'll go." Yamakawa stopped her. "I was the one who upset him, I better make amends."

He found Eiji in a corner of the front garden, where he was keeping himself busy brushing Muku's fur.

"It's obvious why she likes you – you take good care of her, don't you?" Yamakawa could swear that the dog was grinning in contentment. "Or rather, you guys take good care of each other."

Eiji looked up at the man, and the corners of his mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile.

"Eiji-kun, I'm sorry for upsetting you." Yamakawa apologized sincerely. "Sometimes, I can be a stupid ojisan that doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have been so rude." Eiji was chastened; Yamakawa Hiroshi was a trusted friend of the Fujitas, and he had not meant to offend him.

"You were standing up for the man who saved your life." Yamakawa crouched down beside him and petted Muku's head. "Tokio-san told me."

"I… I know that I shouldn't talk about him." Eiji flushed again, recalling that it was supposed to be classified information. "But I kind of want to…."

"I've found over the years that it's bad for you to keep things bottled up. If you want to talk about him, you should talk about him. Not to me if you don't feel like it, but maybe to Tokio-san and Fujita." Yamakawa gave a short laugh. "Though I daresay Fujita is not the easiest man to open up to."

"I don't want to upset Tokio-san," Eiji said hesitantly. "Himura-san used to be Aizu's enemy, right?"

In the past couple of weeks, Eiji had learned a lot about the Bakumatsu. While he understood that it was more complicated than a matter of 'the good guys versus the bad guys', he felt a great deal of sympathy for Tokio whenever she talked about the fate of her homeland and people.

"True, he was one of our worst enemies. However, isn't it also true that you think he's a good man?" Yamakawa smiled sympathetically at the boy; to see the world in black and white was the privilege of childhood, and it was the first step into adulthood to begin to see shades of grey. "Tokio-san is not so close-minded or as coldhearted as to dismiss your feelings."

"I couldn't stand it if anybody said anything good about my enemies," Eiji muttered darkly.

Yamakawa paused for a moment, weighing his words.

"You've been through something terrible, I know. And it's not the kind of thing that you can forget, or easily forgive." Yamakawa stood back up and raised his eyes to the sky.

"I will never forgive them! Never!" Eiji almost spat in anger.

"But sooner or later, you must learn to move on." Yamakawa stated quietly. "You know, I work for the Imperial Army now. I work alongside the very men who besieged my homeland, who killed my friends and destroyed our lives. My wife died in that battle…." He was looking far off into the distance as he spoke. "Why do you think I can do that?"

Eiji eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but could not think of an answer.

"Because I came to terms with the fact that they were not evil men. And I want to serve my country." Yamakawa met the boy's gaze. "That's all I've ever wanted to do. And when you're an adult, sometimes you have to swallow your personal feelings in order to do what is right."

"What is right?" Eiji repeated the words. "You mean, protecting the country?"

"Yes." Yamakawa looked kindly at him. "No matter what flag we fought under during the Boshin War, we all hoped for a better future for Japan. And the best way to restore the honor of Aizu is to lead admirable lives in this new era. That's why I do what I do now, that's why Kenjirō teaches at the University, and that's why Fujita is a police officer."

"Himura-san, he really used to be the Hitokiri Battousai…." Eiji ran his hands over Muku's glossy coat. "But he's a rurouni now, and he's vowed never to kill again."

"War makes monsters of men, but if we're lucky, we can go back to being just men." Yamakawa patted the boy on the head. "So don't be afraid to talk to Tokio-san. She understands these things better than most – just look at who she's married to."

Coming to terms with grief and acceptance was something that Eiji struggled with daily, but talking did seem to ease the pain. He was beginning to understand why Tokio prayed in front of the family altar every day, a moment of bittersweet peace. There were many questions that gave him no peace of mind, and a rage that he found hard to suppress at times, but there was also a fresh sense of appreciation. He was not alone, and there were people who wanted to help him.

The young boy looked up at Yamakawa and nodded.

"Thank you, Yamakawa-san." Eiji stood up and bowed. He closed his eyes to push back the small pinpricks of tears; it was a feeling that he experienced often since his arrival, the feeling that other people's kindness almost made him cry.

"Haha, no need to be so formal. You can call me Hiroshi, or 'Ojisan'." Yamakawa was not a man to stand on ceremony, one of the reasons why he managed to get along with Fujita.

"Hiroshi Ojisan –" Eiji sounded surprised to be allowed such familiarity, but was cut short by a small creature launching forth from behind the bushes to attack the legs of the man.

"Oh! Tsutomu-kun!" Yamakawa dodged the greeting. "Were you awake?"

"He woke up a little while ago." Eiji watched the younger boy darting about.

"Is that so? I bet you stink after your nap. Let's get you to your mother to change your diaper." Yamakawa evaded the toddler's grasp.

"I already changed it," Eiji shrugged.

"You did?" Yamakawa looked at him again, and allowed himself to be caught by Tsutomu. The man picked up the little boy and tucked him under his arm. "Tokio-san was right. You really are a good kid."

Just then, it began to rain, and they hurried inside the house. Tokio thanked Eiji for looking after Tsutomu and urged him to have some kawara senbei. Yamakawa Hiroshi stayed for another while, talking to Tokio about this and that, about old memories, and about their friends from Aizu. The rain did not let up for the rest of the day, and he borrowed an umbrella when it was time for him to head home.

"This is for Futaba-san," Tokio handed him a book for his sister. "I promised her that I would lend it to her. Please take care going home."

"Ah, and you make sure to lock up well." He stepped out and put up the umbrella. "Eiji-kun, it was nice to meet you." He smiled warmly at the young boy. "Oh, if anybody asks about your background, you should just tell them the truth: that one day Fujita showed up and told you that you were coming to live with him and his family."

"Hiroshi-san!" Tokio sounded scandalized.

"Alright, see you again soon!" Yamakawa walked off quickly into the gloomy twilight.

"What was he talking about, Tokio-san?" Eiji asked after he had disappeared.

"Never mind," Tokio sighed, and then smiled at the boy. "Now, should we have dinner? You picked up some good tofu today."

"So did he tell you much about Fujita-san?" Eiji inquired as they headed to the kitchen.

"He's been pushing his men hard, it seems." She smiled as she spoke about her husband. "He's always been like that, holding people to the same standards as he holds himself to."

This was life in the new Meiji era. Some old wounds had healed, while others had not, and some wounds were fresh but mending. And although battles still raged in the shadows, and the world was constantly changing, people lived as best as they could, with grace, with honor and with dignity.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early June – Osaka =

Fujita Gorō crushed the urgent telegram that he had just received, his teeth bared in anger. The subordinate officer who had brought it in flinched as the lieutenant inspector turned towards him, but his voice was surprisingly cool when he spoke.

"Inform the carriage driver that we will not be proceeding to Kyoto, but I'll be taking a boat back to Kobe."

"Back to Kobe?" The Osaka Chief of Police leaned forward in his chair. "What happened?"

"The specialist unit I created was wiped out." Fujita spoke matter-of-factly, but the cold fury in his eyes sent a shiver through the police chief's body. "I have to return to Kobe before heading to Kyoto."

Fujita had come to Osaka on his way to Kyoto in order to assess the number of reinforcements he could divert to the old capital for the upcoming mission. However, this disturbing development meant that most of the plans that he had laid thus far would need to be revised immediately.

Ōkubo Toshimichi's assassination, the escape from Shingetsu-mura, and now this: Shishio Makoto, it seemed, was always one step ahead of them. To massacre an entire troop of accomplished swordsmen, without there being any witnesses, was no small feat. It was infuriating, and there would be serious reflection on the failures in the operation. However, without the Subjugation Force, he was sorely lacking the necessary manpower to deal with Shishio's organization.

Himura Kenshin had disappeared and was still nowhere to be found. 'Who knows what that damned rurouni is thinking,' the man also known as Saitou Hajime said to himself. Nonetheless, as strange as it was, Saitou had no doubt that Himura would appear in time to face Shishio Makoto. The question was, whether he would face the enemy as the Rurouni and die, or as the Hitokiri Battousai and kill.

As Saitou left Osaka, he thought about his last meeting with Yamakawa. _"I can't promise you they'll all come back alive." _He had not thought at the time that none of the men assigned to his command would survive, without having even left their quarters. How foolish it was of Himura Kenshin to think that he could fight without staining his hands with blood. This was a battle, a battle for the future of Japan, and all the men who volunteered to serve the country knew what it was that they risked. The best way he could honor their service and their memory was to ensure the successful completion of the mission. Just as it had been when he was with the Shinsengumi, so it was for him now. 'A wolf is a wolf, the Shinsengumi is the Shinsengumi, and a Hitokiri must be a Hitokiri….'

* * *

############################

* * *

**Author's Notes: **To all the people who have sent me messages, left reviews, listed the story as a favorite and followed me, thank you so much as always for all your wonderful support! I am very grateful to everyone who has taken the time to reach out - it's wonderful to talk to fellow fans and spread the love. As always, any comments or criticisms are most welcome - I will do my best to reply and answer questions as best as I can.

Part of my appreciation stems from the fact that I know that my writing is a niche product. After all, despite the number of chapters and words, I think it could win a prize for "least number of appearances by actual Rurouni Kenshin characters". It's also long and finicky, with lots of historical/cultural annotations. So I beg your indulgence once again, and most fervently hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is getting close to the moment when we will actually have members of the Kenshin-gumi appear! (Gasp!) I'm afraid that I won't be able to do them justice, to be honest...

Also, I'm a little worried that readers will be upset that I'm too hard on Kenshin. Saitou's opinions about Kenshin are not my own (I love all of the characters very much!), but I believe that they are in character. There is a reason why Saitou never became 'friends' with the Kenshin-gumi after all. I drew on his own words, as well as on the live action movie for inspiration.

**Pictures and Cultural notes available on the MKR Tumblr **(see profile page)

**Eeni is busy working on Chapter 4 of the CLT Doujinshi! **Thank you for all the support you've shown her work!

**Language Notes: **

Okaerinasai - standard greeting for welcoming someone home

Korosazu - (though most people should recognize this) literally means "not to kill" but it's used like a noun in RK

Oni - demon or ogre

Ojisan - can mean either 'uncle' or any middle-aged man, or both


	5. Chapter 4 - The Follies of Youth

_Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is a fictionalized account based in part on historical facts. _

**Meiji Keikan Romantan**

* * *

*** There are flashbacks and scene changes in this chapter. Dates and places are labeled at the beginning of each section. There are also references to manga volumes 2, 9 & 11, plus to CLT Chapter 8 (Letters from Edo) and Chapter 11 (Of Murder and Good Men). **

**********Chapter 4 – The Follies of Youth **

* * *

##############

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early June – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward =

Despite her personal misgivings, Fujita Tokio could not help but be entertained by the scene being reenacted for her benefit.

"Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū Ryūshōsen!" Eiji yelled at the top of his lungs and leapt with all his might, brandishing a bamboo cane as his prop sword. "Haaaa!" Landing a little clumsily, he regained his balance and turned towards Tokio. "And then, Senkaku went flying! Himura-san was so strong!"

Tokio nodded encouragingly at the boy. Eiji had recently begun to open up of his own accord about the events at Shingetsu-mura and she recognized that it was an important step towards healing. Although she felt slight pangs of uneasiness about Eiji's idolization of Himura Kenshin, she respected that it was only natural considering the circumstances.

Muku's eyes were riveted to the stick, her body tense with anticipation. Eiji grinned at the dog, and after a few teasing swings, he threw the cane to the other side of the garden.

"Oops!" He looked over his shoulder guiltily as it landed in the hydrangea bushes, Muku scrambling after it into the undergrowth.

"My garden will be destroyed between the pair of you." His guardian said in a stern voice, albeit with a twinkle in her eye.

"I'm sorry! I can do more garden work later." He shrugged apologetically.

"I'd appreciate that." Tokio checked that Tsutomu was still sleeping in his basket, then reset her loom and began weaving again, her hands and feet deftly working the machine. "Tell me what happened next."

Eiji approached the engawa and watched as the cotton threads fashioned a simple but bold striped pattern. Tokio's workroom opened up onto the garden, and it was a bright, pleasant place for her to do her sewing and such. The steady beat of the loom rang out as though keeping the tempo to a silent song.

"Fujita-san told me and the Weasel Girl – Misao – to come out and watch." Eiji noticed that Tokio smiled at the use of the nickname. She obviously had no issues with her husband's sense of humor. "I thought that Himura-san was going to fight against Shishio right there, but Shishio left, saying that he'd be waiting for him in Kyoto. Instead, Himura-san faced off against Seta Soujirō." A shiver ran up his spine as he recalled the moment.

"I see." Tokio had heard the story from her husband, but she tried to imagine it from Eiji's point of view.

"It was like a flash of lightning, and the next thing I knew, Himura-san's sword was broken…." It had happened so fast that his eyes had not been able to follow the action. "But Seta's sword was completely shattered too. Fujita-san said that it was a draw – and then Seta followed Shishio and got away." At the time, although he had been angry that Shishio had escaped, he had been too focused on Senkaku to really react to their departure. Now however, there were questions that plagued him about what he had witnessed.

"Tokio-san, what makes men like Senkaku, and Shishio and Seta, do the things they do?" His brow was furrowed in consternation, and his chest heaved at the memory of the men who were responsible for the deaths of his family.

"If I had the answer, I would be a much wiser person." Tokio sighed. "You could say that it's because they care only about their own desires and not at all about the pain of others. But I couldn't tell you why they are the way they are."

"Seta - he was almost scarier than the others. You know, both Shishio and Senkaku looked like villains, but Seta didn't look like a bad guy, and he was always smiling." Seta's hollow smile was one of the visions that haunted his nightmares. "How could you smile like that and do such horrible things?" He had no doubt that the young man had also carried out terrible deeds; he was certain that anyone who followed Shishio must be mad with evil.

Tokio considered her answer for a moment.

"Danna-sama said that there was something broken about that young man. Shishio and Senkaku, for all their maliciousness, still showed a variety of emotions. However, the normal range of human feelings seemed to be entirely lacking in him." She did not add that it was not all that unusual for people who had suffered severe trauma to shut down in similar ways; Eiji himself was at risk of taking a wrong turn.

"I wonder what it's like to not feel anything…." The boy spoke with such a cold look in his eye that Tokio stopped her work and sat down beside him. Muku came over also, looking hopeful that they would play with her.

"Sometimes, your heart hurts so much that you think it would be easier not to feel anything…." She took his small hand in hers and squeezed. "But I think the only thing that can really help to lighten the pain is to be kind to others, and to let others be kind to you."

Eiji squeezed her hand back – to tell her that he understood, and that he was grateful for her compassion. They sat in silence for a while, and Eiji forced down his anger by turning his thoughts to the man who had saved his life. After a few moments, he asked,

"What do you think Himura-san will do about his sword? The sakabatou was very rare, right?" Eiji did not know much about swords but he knew that much at least.

"Frankly, I don't know." She did not know of any smith who made such weapons; she had wondered where he had gotten one in the first place.

"Himura-san made a vow of 'korosazu'…." A worried look appeared on his face. "Do you think he'll be able to fight? I mean, I think Shishio Makoto and his men all deserve to die, but I don't want Himura-san to do something he's sworn against."

"Eiji-san, Himura-san is very strong, and if he is a man of true conviction, then he will find a way." Her voice was as gentle as it had ever been. "Have faith."

"Like you have faith in Fujita-san?" A cheeky tone entered the boy's voice. If there was one thing that he had learned since coming to live with the Fujitas, it was the absolute trust that Tokio had in her husband.

"Exactly," she stated confidently.

"I hope they got to Kyoto alright." He raised his eyes to the sky, as though he could see their figures in the shapes of the clouds.

"If I hear word, I'll let you know." She had promised to keep him apprised of developments. "The girl, Misao-san – you said she lives in Kyoto. I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Oh, the Weasel Girl was nuts! She wore the weirdest clothes, and kept kicking people in the head." He took on the airs of a disapproving elder.

"Eiji-san, that's no way to talk about somebody who helped you out so much." Tokio admonished him lightly, although she had a hard time picturing a girl who would behave in such a manner.

"Yes, sorry." Eiji looked up at her. "I told you before, why she was traveling to Tokyo and back on her own."

"I remember."

"It's crazy, isn't it? For a girl to be going all around the country, just to find someone?" He did not mean to sound judgmental, but he had no other way of expressing his half-admiration, half-envy at the older girl's audaciousness.

However, instead of agreeing with the boy, Tokio answered with a sympathetic air.

"Young people have their own important reasons for doing things, no matter that other people think them foolish." She gazed keenly at Eiji. "You too, you had your reasons for facing Senkaku, although you were aware of the dangers…." Eiji flushed at her words and looked away. "When you're young, there is no amount of advice that will stop you from making mistakes. And your mistakes will teach you more than any lessons learned from heeding other people's words."

"Even you, Tokio-san?" His foster mother, who was a picture of decorum, did not seem the type to make reckless choices.

"Especially me." She took her seat at her loom again, as his eyes widened in surprise at the admission. She chuckled softly and resumed her work. "In Aizu, we grew up with very strict rules. 'Naranu koto wa naranu – what must not be must not be.' And our parents and elders were extremely stubborn about what was proper. Even so, the heart will find a way to do what it wants." While her eyes were focused on the fabric before her, her mind conjured up images of her youth. "Do not be afraid to make mistakes. Fear only that you will not learn from them," she spoke almost to herself.

"What happens if you make a mistake that can't ever be set right?" Eiji asked seriously, petting Muku on the head as she tried to push the bamboo stick into his hand with her mouth.

"Then you can only strive to be strong enough to carry the weight of it for the rest of your life…." It was true that there were some regrets that could never be undone, and such burdens could crush the soul. "So Eiji-san, whenever you're about to make a life-defining decision, you must weigh it carefully: whether you will regret having done the thing more than you will regret not doing it."

"Pssht!" Eiji grimaced. "That's only if I have the time to think carefully!"

Tokio inclined her head in acknowledgement.

"That is true. So, you see that it is important to build up your strength of character in your every day life, so that even in a moment of confusion, you can trust your instincts to lead you right."

"Yes, Tokio-san." Eiji answered dutifully. "You make everything into a teachable moment, don't you?" He had noticed that about her, although he did not dislike it.

"I'm sorry – I've often been told that I'm preachy." She bowed apologetically in self-awareness at his observation. "And for what it's worth, I am guilty of doling out more advice than I can take myself."

"Hiroshi-Ojisan told me that I was only to listen to half the things you tell me to do." After their initial meeting, he had taken a shine to the gentleman from Aizu.

"And you shouldn't listen to anything he tells you to do." Tokio replied without batting an eyelid.

"If I asked him about your escapades, I'm sure he would tell me," Eiji grinned impishly. He wrestled the bamboo stick away from Muku who barked happily that he was paying her attention again.

"Well, Hiroshi-san doesn't know the half of it," Tokio murmured enigmatically.

"What was that?" Eiji blinked at the unexpected aside.

"What was what?" She smiled at him brightly. "Here, tell me what you think of this design."

"You're trying to change the subject!" Eiji declared. "I bet it has something to do with Fujita-san!" Eiji gleefully pointed his stick at Tokio and saw by the look on her face that he was right.

"Oh, are you sure you want to hear?" Tokio, however, knew how to turn the tables on the young boy. "About how we met and all that sappy, romantic stuff?"

"Aah, no, it's fine actually – I don't need to know." As she knew he would, Eiji balked at the hint of romance like most boys of his age. He threw the stick for Muku, who ran after it into the hydrangeas again. "Sorry! I don't know why it keeps landing in the bushes."

His foster mother sighed in resignation but with no short supply of affection. Within the space of a few weeks, she had grown to care immensely for her ward. It was a measure of her husband's humanity that he had chosen to bring the boy to her rather than to leave him at an orphanage; although he hid it under layers of cynicism and a seeming disinterest in the niceties of life, she knew better than anyone that he had a good heart. She smiled to herself as she imagined what his reaction might be if he knew that she had teased Eiji about how they had met – no doubt he would be annoyed and grumble at her not to tell the children unnecessary things. Yet, for all the youthful folly that their relationship entailed, it was something that they were both willing to stake their existence on for the rest of their years. For Makimachi Misao, and for the young woman called Kamiya Kaoru too, these would be the formative experiences of their lives. Her husband had told her that Kaoru had departed Tokyo, pursuing Himura Kenshin to Kyoto, and Misao had told Eiji about how she was trying to track down one Shinomori Aoshi. The fact that they had never met notwithstanding, Tokio knew exactly what it was that led the girls to act the way they did.

'Perchance they will be granted their own happy endings,' she thought wistfully as her thoughts drifted to Kyoto, where old wounds ran deep and the past still reared its ugly head. 'There are too few happy endings in this world….'

* * *

_= Meiji Year 11 (1878), March – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward = _

"Fujita-san, you're home early today." A woman called out to Fujita Gorō just as he approached the gate of his house.

He stifled the immediate urge to growl at the sound of the voice, and instead forced out what his wife called his 'neighborhood smile'.

"Kobayashi-san, how do you do?" He turned and greeted the older woman walking towards him.

"Or should I say you're coming home very late. You've been away for the last couple of days." Kobayashi Haru, on her way back from the shops, caught up with the tall man in uniform.

"I dare say you're the only one besides my family who noticed." Fujita's nose twitched in irritation, although he maintained his benign facade.

"While you were gone, your wife had a few guests," Haru sniffed.

"Yes, I know." He was aware that Morinosuke had stayed over and Yamakawa Kenjirō had visited. "My brother-in-law likes to spend his days off at our house." In fact, Fujita had expressly informed Morinosuke that he would be gone, and Morinosuke had come to keep an eye on his sister and nephew.

"Well, just so long as it's alright with you." It was not so much the fact that she suspected any impropriety but rather, she merely wanted something to talk about. "But you know, wives should not be left alone for too long. Even if your relatives and friends are trustworthy, there are plenty of unsavory men in the world who would take advantage of a husband's absence."

Fujita inhaled slowly, mentally counting to ten as the reserves of his patience were stretched. At the back of his mind, he concurred that the woman's point had some merit; if a woman's dignity was compromised, no matter the circumstances, she was the one who was held at fault.

"I'm sure you must worry about her constantly." Haru continued, spurred by Fujita's lack of response. "And you know how people will talk – rumors can be vicious."

"The problem is that rumors and idiots feed off of each other, generating a self-perpetuating cycle." Fujita's 'neighborhood smile' slipped. "Unfortunately for me, there's no law against idiocy."

Haru was taken aback by the glimpse of Fujita Gorō's true nature, but just then, the gate was pushed open, saving the situation from increasing awkwardness.

"Okaerinasai-mase, Danna-sama." Tokio stepped out and bowed gracefully, carrying her son in her arms. "Kobayashi-san, good day to you. I hope he hasn't kept you out here talking for too long."

"No, I was just passing by." Haru said uncomfortably, as people do when they are caught in the act of talking about somebody behind their backs. "I should be getting home."

"Please do drop by another time." Tokio called out warmly to the older woman as she walked away hurriedly. Fujita gave his wife a perfunctory nod of his head, the unnatural expression having disappeared and his shoulders held stiffly as he walked inside the gate.

Inside the confines of his own home, the man let out a long sigh as he removed his gloves and stroked Muku's head as her tail wagged furiously. The dog had been waiting for him eagerly, having alerted her mistress to his arrival before he had even turned the corner of their street.

"Tokio," he addressed his wife, scowling. He knew that she had been about to open the gate for him when she had heard their neighbor's voice, and decided to listen in. "Go sprinkle some salt outside." It was the standard tradition of purifying the home and warding off evil.

"Come now, Kobayashi-san is hardly worth the waste." Tokio tried to stifle her laughter; she was more tolerant of her neighbor than her husband. "And she was quite right: wives should not be left alone for too long."

"So that was your idea of payback?" He arched an eyebrow as he detached his sword from his belt and removed his shoes.

"A little friendly conversation won't do you any harm." His wife smiled appreciatively at him; she knew that it was for his family's sake that he did his best not to antagonize their neighbors.

"Friendly conversation is overrated." Fujita muttered. "Though you stopped me from giving that hag any more grist for her rumor mill." He had been on the verge of snapping.

"I was afraid her grindstone might crack if I didn't step in," Tokio hid her mirth behind her sleeve.

"And, were there any unsavory men who tried to take advantage of my absence?" He handed her his sword and took Tsutomu (who had been reaching out for his father) from her.

"Plenty. Not including Morinosuke and Kenjirō-san who ate all the food in the house, there was the rice seller who tried to hike up the prices for the month, and Honda-san came looking for a donation to the 'district activities fund', oh and the owner of Seirindō Antiques wanted to see whether I was interested in selling anything in your collection." She tilted her head to look up at him, chuckling as he frowned darkly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease so. After all, you've been working hard."

"And you better not forget it." He tapped her forehead with his knuckles. "I've barely slept the last two days or had a decent bite to eat."

"Would you like a bath or your meal first?" She followed after him down the corridor.

"Bath." He made his way upstairs to their room to get changed out of his uniform. "Tsutomu can go in with me."

"Please don't try to drown him this time," Tokio called up after him.

"Ahou. I was teaching him how to swim." Her husband glared down the stairs, but his wife was already gone, having gone to prepare the hot water.

An hour or so later, in the early evening, Fujita felt almost fully refreshed as he enjoyed an after-dinner cigarette. He listened as Tokio told a story to their son, with a look of contentment that only those closest to him were ever permitted to see.

"And that is how Momotarō beat the ogres of Onigashima and won their treasure."

"If you ask me, Momotarō is a criminal who should be arrested for assault and theft." He blew a ring of smoke as Tokio glanced at him reproachfully for twisting an innocent folktale.

"And that is why you are not allowed to tell him stories."

"What are you talking about? Tsutomu likes my stories." Fujita reached out to ruffle his son's head. "Once upon a time, there was a hardworking policeman who was busy keeping the peace, solving murders and preventing terrorist plots. Why just yesterday, he was examining a corpse at an abandoned shrine –"

"Hajime-sama!" Tokio interrupted sharply.

"You usually like my stories too," he smirked at her. "Don't tell me you're not interested."

A brief staring match ensued until Tokio relented, for she saw that her husband was indeed tired from work.

"I laid out the futons if you'd like to rest," she offered by way of a truce.

"It's hardly sundown," he grumbled and stubbed out his cigarette.

"But you haven't slept – isn't that why you came home early?" She tried to coax him.

"This is fine for now." Before she had time to react, he stretched out on his side, laying his head in her lap and closing his eyes. "Stay like this for a while."

"Hajime-sama…." She said his name so tenderly now, and she was blushing at the proprietary nature of his action. This was about as unguarded as he allowed himself to act, a moment in which he submitted to the luxury of being indulged by his wife.

He heard her chuckle quietly and opened one eye. Off to the side, he saw that Tsutomu was copying him, curling up against Muku's stomach, giggling as the dog licked his face. It was a sight far removed from what he had been dealing with the last few days.

As though she guessed what was on his mind, Tokio sighed and spoke.

"So, did your plan go as expected?" She was aware that he had been covertly supervising the Kurogasa investigation.

"So you are interested," he stated smugly. Her reply was to brush her fingers across his brow.

"Was Himura Battousai able to prevent the assassination?" He could tell she was tense; she was probably wondering about the corpse that he had mentioned.

"Aah. And I was right – Kurogasa was Udō Jin'e." He closed his eyes again and shifted his head slightly on her lap. "After Battousai prevented him from killing Tani Jūsanrō, Udō lured the Battousai into a duel."

She placed a hand on his shoulder; he took it in his own and held it against his chest.

"So the body you mentioned…." She murmured haltingly as she entwined her fingers through his.

"Kurogasa." He heard her inhale sharply.

"Then that means that Himura Battousai – "

"It appears that Udō took his own life." He cut her off before she could finish the sentence.

"Oh!"

He opened his eyes again to see her staring at him in astonishment.

"According to the report made to the police yesterday, the Battousai incapacitated Udō but did not kill him. Instead, Udō stabbed himself rather than face capture."

"Do you believe it to be true?" Although Tokio might want to believe that Himura Battousai had changed, it was still a stretch to accept that he had taken a vow never to kill again.

Fujita did not answer, lying still, his gaze fixed on the waning moon rising over the garden wall. Tokio recalled that two nights ago, it had been full and bright, and it had hung low above the rooftops of the city. She had not slept well; Tsutomu had been fussing, either due to his father's absence or his mother's uneasiness.

"There was a witness." When he spoke again, there was a coolness to his voice that he normally reserved for the office. "Kamiya Kaoru."

"The young landlady?" Tokio lightly bit her lip. "Why was she present?"

"Kurogasa took her hostage. Used her as bait. The Battousai let the enemy gain leverage against him because he let him go the previous night."

As inscrutable as his expression was, she understood his moods as much as anybody could understand another person, and she could tell that he was more troubled than he would confess. Although they hardly ever discussed it, she knew that it was his worst fear that his enemies might try to use his wife and son against him.

She could feel the steady beat of his heart underneath the palm of her hand, and with her other hand she cradled his cheek.

"I would have thought that a man like Himura Battousai would do a better job of protecting those around him…." Fujita's occupation came with high risks, but for that reason he took many precautions to guarantee his family's safety. It was why he always made sure to leave no loose ends – his enemies could not harm them from beyond the grave.

"Hmph. Idiot girl, she went looking for trouble." He gave a derisive snort. "The Battousai went alone to look for Kurogasa, but she chased after him and was caught."

"Oh dear." Tokio frowned in alarm. "I hope she was not injured."

"Hah. She was lucky. But if she intends to keep company with the Battousai, she'd have better learned her lesson." He was unimpressed by what he perceived as a young woman's stupidity.

"Young ladies can be hopeless when it comes to making ill-advised decisions about men. You know that better than most." She said in a mild manner, but her words hit their mark.

"…. You were an idiot too." He replied gruffly after a pause, although he tightened his hold on her hand.

"You encouraged me." She smiled as she remembered the thrill of their early encounters.

"Ahou. I was trying to discourage you." His claim was not convincing.

"Oh, doesn't it make you cringe? The follies of our youth?" She laughed lightly. "To think about all the risks I took, just so I could spend a little time with you."

"Not to mention butting your nose into all of those affairs that were none of your concern." He could not completely mask the amused glint in his eyes. "But you were too smart for your own good. I'm not quite sure that's the case with this Kamiya girl."

"Maybe she should have known better, but I don't think she could have stopped herself." Tokio had a soft spot for unconventional women; her childhood friends were famous in her homeland for defying the orthodoxy. "The heart will find a way to do what it must."

"Which is why the Battousai should have killed Kurogasa on that first night, if he really cared for the safety of those around him." This was what had really rankled on his nerves, this so-called rurouni's vow and the unnecessary burdens that came with it.

"I understand." She did not disagree with her husband, knowing where he stood on the matter. "But surely, it's a measure of his skill that he was able to defeat the assassin without killing him." She held her husband's skeptical eye.

"Udō Jin'e might have been better than your two-bit swordsman, but he would have been no match for the Hitokiri Battousai in his prime." Udō had not even ranked at the executive level in the Shinsengumi.

"I take it Himura Battousai returned with Kamiya-san?" She steered the conversation back to the relationship between the former Hitokiri and the young dōjō mistress, which she found rather intriguing.

"For the time being." It remained to be seen how much longer Himura would stay there. "I won't go so far as to say he's taking advantage of a naïve fool, but she's a naïve fool."

"Well, it seems to me that they might have a lot in common." She tilted her head, creating the illusion that she was looking up at him. "From what you've told me, she's every bit the idealist that he is."

"Hmph. At least she has the excuse that she doesn't know any better." His lip curled in contempt. "The man I fought against wasn't such a fool."

"The man you fought against made a lot of mistakes in his youth…." Her voice trailed off as she thought back to those days in Kyoto; in Tokio's mind, he was fixed as the unfortunate assassin who had been exploited for his ideals.

"They're both going to get hurt if he continues to live the lie." Saitou, on the other hand, had fully come to terms with the duality that in order to protect, he had to kill.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you seem quite concerned." Tokio chuckled, even as she anticipated that her comment would irritate him.

"Tokio, you're awfully presumptuous today." He reached up to pinch her cheek.

He was not quite prepared when she leaned down and pressed her lips lightly against his; he let go immediately, and heard her whisper,

"I missed you."

He did not react right away, straining to maintain his composure in the face of his wife's forwardness. When he did speak, he casually continued talking as though nothing had happened.

"At any rate, in his current state, he won't be of any use on the Shishio operation. Ōkubo-kyō wants to wait a little longer to see how things play out, but there's only so much time left before we need to make our move."

"Kawaji-sama told you not to get directly involved," she murmured with a hint of resentment. She had enjoyed having the upper hand for all of a few moments.

"He told me not to get directly involved _yet_." He smirked at her, and she narrowed her eyes in disapproval. "Why do you look so worried?"

"Because I am worried." She sighed. "I know you're itching to settle your scores with him."

He did not deny it; aside from the fact that Himura Battousai was his deadliest foe from the Bakumatsu, he also wanted to prove the utter folly of his current way of life.

"I'm not going to kill him – we're going to use him." However, for appearances sake, he needed to couch it in terms of his professional duty.

"What if he refuses?"

"He agreed to fight Kurogasa, he won't refuse to fight Shishio Makoto, who's by far the greater threat." That had been another reason to set up the request through the local police chief, to see whether Himura Battousai would still be willing to wield his sword for the sake of the country.

"I'm sure Kamiya-san will not be pleased - she may try to stop him." If she had been willing to chase after him as he went to face Kurogasa, then she would certainly be unhappy if Himura Kenshin left for Kyoto.

"Hah. You think the Hitokiri Battousai would put the feelings of a girl before the fate of a nation?" He found the idea to be preposterous. "If she really wants to be with him, she's going to have to accept him for what he truly is, not just a rurouni's falsehood of who he says he is."

"And yet, he did not kill Kurogasa…." She reminded him. Intuition told her that the young lady's presence had something to do with that fact.

Saitou Hajime could not refute this, nor could he ignore it. In truth, Saitou was surprised that Himura Kenshin was still at the Kamiya dōjō; although he had discovered that Himura had stayed for a period of time in some other places, his interactions with Kamiya Kaoru, the boy Myōjin Yahiko and one Sagara Sanosuke appeared to indicate more than just a 'passing interest'. Perhaps his wife was right and he was underestimating the hold that the young girl had on the Battousai.

"What do you care about their relationship anyway?" Saitou asked Tokio, although it was a question that he was really asking himself.

"I just wonder what kind of woman the infamous Hitokiri Battousai might settle down with, that's all." She closed her eyes briefly as she replayed a brief exchange from over a decade ago, in which she had learned that the Battousai had been married and that his wife had been killed. The image of a cross-shaped scar bleeding onto fresh fallen snow was etched indelibly in her mind.

"Hmph. In any case, if she can't tolerate him fighting his battles, or tries to get in his way, she's completely wrong for him." He had learned to appreciate long ago that Tokio always supported him and never doubted his chosen path. "A woman can't force a man to stay, nor to return to her side."

"A man must make that choice himself." Tokio's smile stirred his mind. "But when you are young, you try so hard to make things go your way…."

"Speak for yourself." He turned his head, noting to himself that his wife's thighs made for quite a comfortable pillow. "I don't recall trying hard – you were the one making all the fuss."

"Oh, is that so?" Tokio's voice rose with a touch of indignation.

"I told you, you were an idiot too." His grin was positively wolfish.

"Perhaps I was – after all I married you." She tried to push him off her lap, but he would not budge. After some unsuccessful exertion, she gave up, laughing in defeat. "Sometimes, I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because there's nobody else you'd rather put up with." His eyes glowed amber in the soft light of the lantern.

"And you?" She asked teasingly as she looked down into his face. "Isn't it fortunate for you that I was willing to make some foolish decisions in my youth?"

He held her gaze for a while, and then closed his eyes.

"The best decisions you ever made." The statement caused her heart to skip a beat. "Things happen as they should, Tokio. Aren't you the one who told me so back then?"

It was true, she reflected. Of all the paths that she could have taken, she would not have chosen to be anywhere but here. She could not imagine the course of her life had she not fallen in love with Saitou Hajime, and she knew it was the same for him. The moment that they had met, although they could not have known it for what it was at the time, their fates had been set and irrevocably intertwined.

The sky let the last vestiges of light slip away and embraced the pale light of the moon.

"Tsutomu's fallen asleep." The child was curled up, breathing steadily, watched over by the faithful Muku.

"I should put him to bed." She was reluctant to get up and disrupt their current intimacy.

"Aah. And if you could bring out some saké, that'd be good." He looked up at her expectantly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Morinosuke and Kenjirō-san were here last night, and they drank it all. I meant to go buy some more today but didn't have time…."

"Haaa? You let those idiots drink all the saké?" He sat up in irritation, and reached for his packet of cigarettes. "Who the hell do they think they are?"

"I'm very sorry, Hajime-sama." Tokio chuckled as she apologized. Only her younger brother and his friend would be foolhardy enough to do such a thing and risk her husband's ire.

"Tch! I guess I'll have to make do with you for tonight." He lit a cigarette and glanced at his wife. He smirked as she tried to disguise how flustered she was; it did not require much imagination to guess what was on his mind.

"I know I'm only a poor substitute for drink." She moved to pick up her son and carry him upstairs to his futon.

"Ahou."

"Yes, yes, I know." She turned to look at her husband before exiting the room. "After all, I haven't changed much since my youth."

When the woman who had been called the 'Flower of Aizu' smiled at him like that, Saitou Hajime had to agree.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early June – Kobe =

It was, and there was no other word for it, a massacre.

"Lieutenant Inspector Fujita, here is the report of the available testimony."

A junior officer handed Fujita Gorō a few flimsy sheets of paper. The details were sparse. In the dead of night, the entire unit had been wiped out and the perpetrator had made his escape long before the attack was discovered. Police compounds were supposed to be secure and guards kept watch around the clock, but those guards had been killed all too easily. Fujita knew full well that there were certain operators who were trained to infiltrate heavily guarded areas under cover of darkness, both for espionage and for assassination purposes (the Oniwaban and other types of shinobi came to mind). However, such missions usually had a specific target and were carried out with precision. What made this case extraordinary was the wanton carnage that had unfolded, and the fact that it had been carried out by just one man – Fujita was certain of that after examining the corpses.

The first few had been killed in their sleep; the assassin had masterfully hidden his approach. The next few seemed to have woken up, but not had time to reach their weapons. The others though, they should have done better. Fujita kept a tight rein over his emotions as he counted the number of men who had been able to draw their swords. Over three-fifths of the group had fought, and died.

Fujita checked the watch logbooks; according to the officer's notes, there had been nothing out of the ordinary at midnight. The guards were scheduled to change two hours later, and that was when the alarm had been raised. Under two hours to slaughter over fifty well-trained men. Whatever about the rank-and-file policemen, it was no mean feat to slay fifty of the best swordsmen that the military and police force boasted. He lit up a cigarette as he put down the report.

Until recently, he could have counted on one hand the number of people he knew who had the skills to carry out such a thing: aside from Okita Souji and Sagawa Kanbei who were deceased, there was Nagakura Shinpachi, Himura Kenshin, and himself. That had been before he met Shishio Makoto and Seta Soujirō at Shingetsu-mura. 'How many men in Shishio's organization are capable of doing this?' He contemplated the question with an uncommon exhilaration, exhilaration that battles like this could still be fought in the Meiji era.

Fujita did not dislike peace – far from it, he wished for nothing but peace for his family. However, Fujita was too cognizant of the truth about human nature to harbor any illusions; humans were imperfect and therefore would breed conflict. There was no shortage of threats, no matter what the age, and when it came to it, he would never hesitate to fight. Nor did he delude himself or anyone else that he disliked the battle; on the contrary, he embraced the urge to engage in combat. It was an inherent paradox that there were few things as satisfying as striking down those who spread violence and destruction.

Aku. Soku. Zan. Despite what others might think, since joining the Shinsengumi, he had never wielded his sword selfishly or for personal gain. He took pride in his abilities but his abilities were not something he needed to prove. The unrelenting adherence to the Shinsengumi code of conduct formed the core of his philosophy and built a path for him to follow even during the darkest of times. He had been fortunate: he had learned from the mistakes of his youth, and found a cause worth upholding to the end of his days, and a woman who would stay by his side through it all.

* * *

= _Ganji Year 1 (1864), March – Kyoto_ =

There were only a few people who were capable of sneaking up on Saitou Hajime, and of those few, there was only one who actively went out of his way to annoy him.

"Whatcha got there?" Okita's voice came from right behind him, and caused Saitou to crush the letter in his hand.

"Courier just dropped off a letter." Saitou casually tucked the papers away, maintaining a veneer of nonchalance.

"Hmmm?" Okita peered up at him curiously. "From a woman?"

"From Edo." Saitou answered in a bored tone, hoping that he would lose interest.

"From a woman in Edo?" Okita grinned. "You've been receiving a few letters these last months."

"No more than you receive from your sister." Saitou glared at Okita.

"Ah, but you wouldn't catch me waiting by the gates for a letter from her." There was pure mischief in his voice.

"I wasn't waiting – it was just coincidence." Saitou ducked under the gates of the Maekawa estate, irritated at himself for being caught, and irritated at Okita because Okita was being irritating. "I was coming back from the sword dealer."

It was not an outright lie, for he had paid a visit to the dealer earlier, but it was not by chance that he had been watching for the courier's arrival. Nobody in the Shinsengumi was boorish enough to read another man's personal correspondence, but Okita was meddlesome (as were a few others). They were particularly meddlesome about Saitou, who carefully protected his privacy despite the communal arrangement of their living situation.

The comment about the sword dealer did what Saitou intended however, and distracted Okita.

"Did you find anything good?" It was one subject that they could converse easily about, and Saitou was regarded as having a keen eye for quality.

"There was one – the origin is unknown but it was made in the style of 'kotetsu'."

They talked as they walked towards the main hall, where they were due to hold their weekly meeting.

"Are you going to buy it?" Okita knew that it was not a decision to be made lightly.

"I'll need to ask Hijikata-san for a considerable advance on my pay." Saitou exhaled sharply, thinking about the extra work he would be made to do for it.

"Didn't you ask your family for money? Isn't that what the letter is about?" The question sounded innocent enough, but it made the hair on the back of Saitou's neck prickle; if Okita discovered who was really writing to Saitou, he would never give him a moment's peace.

"Hmph. I'm a second son. My family is not so well-off as to have money to spare on me." There was no bitterness in his words; his older brother Hiroaki was doing his best to support their parents, and he had been generous enough when they had parted. Besides, he had left behind the Yamaguchi name when he had come to Kyoto.

"But you need a new sword." Okita nodded concernedly. "The one you have now could snap at any moment. You can't go on patrol with that."

The sword Saitou had been using was a blade of decent quality. However, due to the extreme stresses that its wielder had been placing on it, it had come to a breaking point.

"I'll talk to Hijikata-san." The furrow in Saitou's brow deepened; it was a necessary expense, but it still seemed extravagant.

"He'll lend you the money; he and Kondō-san were just talking the other day about how every executive member should have a sword of note, preferably a 'wazamono' or above."

Saitou snorted; ever since Kondō Isami had come into possession of a 'Nagasone Kotetsu', it had become a frequent topic of discussion.

"I didn't think I'd need a new sword after only a year in Kyoto." Saitou almost sounded sentimental; a samurai's sword was his soul, and he was attached to it more than anything else in his possession.

"Haha, it just shows how much you've been abusing it." Okita chuckled darkly. "A regular blade simply isn't as bloodthirsty as you."

There was some truth to Okita's jest. Whereas people were equally divided as to who was the strongest in the Shinsengumi(Okita, Nagakura or Saitou), in terms of raw numbers, the deadliest out of the three was Saitou. It was not a matter of commitment or hesitation on the part of Okita and Nagakura, but perhaps it was a matter of disposition. _'They simply aren't as bloodthirsty.'_ Saitou had overheard the comment several times; it did not bother him as much as it might have done another person.

"I do what needs to be done," Saitou brushed off Okita's jibe.

"As you should," Okita sighed wistfully. "Though sometimes, it's difficult."

"Are you still fretting over Noguchi?" Saitou fixed him with an exasperated glare, referring to a member who had recently been made to commit seppuku for violating the Shinsengumi Charter. Noguchi had gotten drunk, then been involved in a personal fight, and had fled when he was wounded; it was conduct unbecoming of a samurai and the sentence had been swift.

"Yeah, well, we were the same age, and we went drinking a couple of times." Okita sat down on the engawa of the main hall and scratched his ear. "Pity that he couldn't hold it together." Okita had acted as the kaishaku, swiftly beheading the man a mere second after the ceremonial knife had pierced his belly.

"Are you saying you regret having to do your duty?" Saitou was surprised that Okita might be feeling disillusioned.

"No, not my duty." Okita shook his head. "It's the actions of other men that make me feel sorry."

Saitou leaned against a wooden pillar and folded his arms. They both understood the need for the rigid discipline; the Shinsengumi were a group of upstarts, whose only attribute was their talent in the martial arts, and in order to prevent anarchy and ensure full commitment within the organization, harsh rules must be implemented. However, they were only men in the end – and men will make mistakes.

"Saitou-san, have you ever regretted killing someone?" Okita asked his comrade bluntly in a low voice.

It was oddly quiet for that time of day. The Maekawa compound was usually a hub of activity, with the various members going to and fro, but at that moment, they were the only two around. A plum tree blossomed in the courtyard, adding a splash of color to the grey spring morning. Okita's eyes traced the gnarled branches while he waited for Saitou to answer, half-expecting him to keep silent.

"I don't know that regret is the right word." When Saitou did speak, his voice sounded unusually young. "I killed a man that I shouldn't have."

"What happened?" Okita turned towards him; it was rare that Saitou opened up about himself.

"It was a stupid incident – I was challenged by a hatamoto to a duel, shinkenshoubu, and I won." Saitou placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Is that why you left Edo?" Okita was studying him with renewed interest. A personal duel with a hatamoto was a serious thing; he was surprised that Saitou had not been ordered to commit seppuku.

"It was the least inconvenient option." Saitou drawled. He did not go into the details; Okita was already aware that Aizu retainer Takagi Kojūrō had sponsored Saitou's entry into the Roushi Gumi at their inception. "Though I'm sure the man's family are wishing I'd hurry up and die in the line of duty."

"So, how do you feel about it?" Okita was genuinely curious; although they had grown to know each other well over the past year, Saitou still gave off an air of aloofness.

"The man didn't deserve to die, I realize that now. And if I were to kill all the idiots in the world, the human race would die out fairly quickly." The corner of Saitou's mouth twitched in a half-smirk. "But regret is a waste of emotion. After all, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that mistake. And I don't regret coming here."

"Is that so?" Okita smile returned. For some reason, confiding in Saitou and having Saitou confide in him made him feel better.

"You're not responsible for the stupidity of other men." Saitou stated brusquely.

"Of course." Okita straightened up. "Even if it is frustrating. But you're right, there's no room for regret when it comes to the Shinsengumi."

"There are a lot worse things that one could aspire to." Saitou said matter-of-factly, and Okita concurred.

In order to rise above their humble beginnings, the Shinsengumi needed to be absolutely dedicated to bushidō. It was the very first article in the charter:

_It is forbidden to deviate from the way of the samurai_.

The rest of the rules all stemmed from this foundation. Although the philosophy appeared simple, it was deceptively difficult to see through – for those who did not hold it in their heart of hearts, if they let down their guard for even one moment, the consequences could be fatal.

'To be true samurai': it was the ideal of Kondō Isami and Hijikata Toshizō, and what they always strived to be. It was an ideal that all who followed them shared. A true samurai must not wield his sword for personal reasons, but only in service to his lord and country. If he must kill, he must kill to protect the peace, and if he must be killed, he must find honor in death.

"These things happen as they should, or so I've been told." Saitou watched as some members arrived at the main hall. "Even folly has a purpose."

"Sheesh, Saitou-san. Who'd have pegged you for a philosopher?" Okita chuckled as Saitou raised an eyebrow at his comment.

"Okita-kun, Saitou-kun," Nagakura Shinpachi greeted them as he approached with Harada Sanosuke. "Ready for the meeting?"

"Okita, look, I got a letter from that geisha we met the last time in Gion." Harada waved a sheet of paper under Okita's nose.

"Good for you, Harada-san. After you spent your entire month's salary there, at least you have something to show for it." Okita laughed, the mischievous tone back in his voice.

"Why you little-!" Harada's hand grasped thin air where Okita's head had been just a second ago.

"Oh, but Saitou-san also received a letter." Okita ducked away and diverted the subject, much to Saitou's annoyance.

"What?!" Harada and Nagakura both turned towards him, their eyes shining with the anticipation of sport.

"Ahou. I told you it was just from Edo." Saitou snorted. 'From Edo' typically implied 'from family', and Harada and Nagakura gave a 'tsk' of disappointment. "You might as well ask Okita what his sister wrote to him."

"Yeah yeah, Mitsu-san is about the only woman who'd write to you, Okita," Harada cackled.

"Not true. Takagi Tokio-san of Aizu wrote to me at the beginning of the year."

As Harada stared in disbelief, Saitou felt his stomach lurch at Okita's declaration. It was an utterly unfamiliar and disconcerting sensation.

"If you're referring to the New Year's message that Kondō-san received on behalf of the entire group," Nagakura cut in before Okita could embellish the facts.

"Yes, well she mentioned me by name." Okita stuck out his chin.

"She mentioned me also." Nagakura patted the younger man smugly on the back.

"What? Did she say anything about me?" Harada looked from one to the other, and slumped his shoulders when he received no reply. "Haa. I guess you and me are beneath the notice of the 'Flower of Aizu', eh Saitou?"

"Don't lump me together with you, Harada-san." Saitou rose up to his full height and looked down dismissively at Harada, before stepping inside the main hall. He could not let it be seen that for a moment, he had almost lost his composure.

He took his seat, the epitome of cool detachment, but all the while the letter hidden inside his kimono seemed to burn against his chest. Takagi Tokio's guileless letters stirred him more than a geisha's practiced flattery ever could. He could hear Harada continuing to boast about the number of women who were now seeking his favor. Women and swords: besides their work, those were the two most popular topics of discussion among the members. Saitou was not inclined towards small talk, but even if he did not actively seek out company, he conceded that he was grateful for the camaraderie extended to him. The Shinsengumi had given him a place to call his own, and although he was not the most sociable of men, neither was he made of stone. He acknowledged the satisfaction of being understood and accepted among those who shared his goals and outlook on life. And although it might be youthful folly, he could not pretend that he was indifferent to the honest emotions of a young lady who unreservedly shared her frank opinions and supported him wholeheartedly. She had chosen to trust him, to care about him - him and not Okita Souji, not Nagakura Shinpachi, nor any other. She was writing to him and not somebody else. It pleased him more than he would have ever imagined.

Just over a year had passed since Saitou Hajime and the other members of the Shinsengumi had arrived in Kyoto. Mistakes had been made, lessons had been learned, and they were that much stronger and wiser for it. Their greatest challenges still lay ahead, but they would not lose sight of what they stood for or what they fought for. They would soon come to be known as the greatest and fiercest (some said most dangerous) group of samurai in Kyoto. However, they were also young men like most others.

"Before we begin the meeting, I have a personal issue to address." A vein was throbbing on Hijikata's brow and his eyelid twitched. "Who's the imbecile who took my book of haiku and used it as waste paper for the toilet?"

A wave of murmurs and snickers swept the hall.

"Was that what it was? I thought it was a good idea – a read and wipe kinda thing."

"The haiku was pretty bad though."

"Silence!" The handsome vice-commander's face was twisted in fury. "Souji! Harada! I know it was one of you!"

"Hey! Why do you always try to put the blame on us!" Harada objected.

"Yeah! You were the one who told me to restock the paper." Okita argued.

"So it was you Souji!"

"I don't know why you're so mad – I was able to find a constructive use for your terrible poetry!"

Okita delivered the parting shot as he fled Hijikata's wrath. Raucous laughter filled the air as Hijikata struggled to maintain his dignity, and then gave up, giving chase to the wayward young captain. Saitou found himself laughing also, although at the back of his mind, he thought, 'this is why the Shinsengumi Charter is so strict'; without it, the organization was liable to descend into chaos.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early June – Kyoto =

Kyoto, the Thousand-Year Capital, which had held the cultural and religious heart of Japan for over a millennia – renowned for the elegance of its seasons, the word 'refinement' suited it more than any other place in the country. However, behind its beautiful façade, since ancient times it was deemed a demon's city where evil spirits wandered the streets, giving rise to disease, famine, and many wars. During the upheaval of the Bakumatsu, there was not a day that bloody mist did not rise, that heads did not roll – a battleground resembling a landscape in hell.

The man once known as Saitou Hajime had spent his formative years here, and they defined him as a samurai. Although he wore a different uniform and was called by a different name, there was no hiding his true nature; he remained the Wolf of Mibu. It had been a long time since he had prowled the streets for prey, but now, he would hunt again.

Feelings of nostalgia flooded his mind; nevertheless, he could not allow himself to wallow in sentimentality, and he would not lose sight of the issue at hand. His carriage pulled up at the entrance to the Kyoto Police Headquarters, and he stepped out into the evening. The air was muggy and there was hardly any breeze, an indicator of the heavy rains to come and the hot summer that would follow. His arrival was announced and the station chief came out to greet him.

"Thank you for coming a long way. You were much later than we expected so I was beginning to worry."

"There was an incident…." Between his detour at Shingetsu-mura as well as the attack in Kobe, his arrival in Kyoto had been postponed by over a week. "Chief, the swordsman from Shishio's organization that you arrested…"

"Yes, his cell is at the very end." The man gestured as they walked down the hallway through the jail. "Ah, wait a moment, Fujita-kun. Before that, could I ask you to take care of a small problem?" He indicated a cell further down. "A week ago, a man caused a huge fight in town and we took him in, but since then, he's refused to leave and we're at a loss as to what to do with him. Can you do something about him?"

Fujita had already guessed that there was somebody there, and he even had an inkling as to who it was.

"Hehe. Just as I thought." The police officer's suspicions were confirmed as he heard the voice. "Instead of blundering around searching, it was better to trouble the police and get ahold of you first. Quickest way I could think of to find Kenshin."

"So it's you." Fujita narrowed his eyes as he regarded the young man sitting cross-legged on the bench with a brazen look in his eye.

"Yeah. Sagara Sanosuke has arrived in Kyoto!"

Another young fool had come to make his mark in the city; Fujita suppressed a smirk at the foolhardiness of Himura Kenshin's hotheaded friend. Was he amused or annoyed? He could not make up his mind; their last meeting in Tokyo had been entertaining enough. It remained to be seen whether Sagara had heeded his advice about improving his defensive abilities, but Fujita would acknowledge that he at least had guts. He also had a sense of shame that he had been treated as a weakness.

In his mind, he could hear Tokio's voice.

"_When you are young, you try so hard to make things go your way…." _

What did it matter to him if Sagara had come to throw his life away? Or perhaps he would be surprised again; the Battousai had some degree of respect for the youth, despite his idiocy, after all.

'Things happen as they should,' Fujita mused to himself, 'and even folly has a purpose'.

While he might never have been as foolish as Sagara Sanosuke, he understood better than most that there were some follies that were worth every risk.

* * *

##############

* * *

**Author's Notes: cultural and reference notes as usual on the MKR blog - go to profile page. **

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all the readers who have added this story to their Favorites list, and to all the kind reviewers who took the time to reach out. There were a few guest reviews and some people who do not allow PMs so I'd like to take this opportunity to say to them, your opinions and support give me so much encouragement. A very special thanks to Vanessa for proofreading and letting me bounce ideas.

The title and theme of the chapter came about because I was talking to a girl I mentor about not being afraid to make mistakes. We are a product of our failures just as much as our successes - and everyone in RK has had to learn important lessons in their youth. Re-reading over CLT, it struck me that the way Tokio and Saitou acted was realistic enough if you consider that they were still teenagers - but had they met when they were older, things would have played out quite differently. I did my fair share of sneaking around while pretending to be a 'good girl' when I was that age! And yes, it makes me cringe, but it also makes me nostalgic for the days when I didn't know any better. And with Sano's appearance at the end, hey, we all know what Saitou thinks of Sano, right? I'm looking forward to writing a little more Sano/Saitou interactions.

The story is moving slowly, and I regret that it is entirely due to my selfish desire to fill in the episodes from the past. I still love the Shinsengumi, and I still enjoy writing about them. I hope Shinsengumi fans will indulge me as I take liberties with these characters. As always, I worry that people won't accept my portrayal of Saitou; I beg you to read with an open mind, taking into consideration that he was never quite the loner that you might assume from his character. From the next chapter on, I have to face the challenge of writing the Kenshin-gumi and to be honest, it makes me sweat nervously. However, I can only my best and keep my fingers crossed that readers will be entertained.

A big thank you to everyone who's following the Meiji Keikan Romantan tumblr: **Eeni has posted up to Chapter 4 of the CLT doujinshi and is currently working on Chapter 5. **We have a lot of fun fangirling and even just her doodles are enough to make me squeal in delight. Also, Tokio and Saitou on 'Yae no Sakura' are fueling all sorts of new fantasies. The series is incredible but unfortunately not dubbed - I am posting recaps and highlights on the blog.


	6. Chapter 5 - The Rooster and the Fox

_Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is a fictionalized account based in part on historical facts.  
_

* * *

**Meiji Keikan Romantan **

**Chapter 5 – The Rooster and the Fox**

* * *

_* The chapter starts right after Saitou and Sano talk to Chou in Kyoto, manga volume 11. There are flashbacks and references in this chapter to manga volumes 2, 3, 4, 6 and 7 as well as CLT Chapter 30 "The Battle of Aizu". Scene changes are labeled with time and place at the beginning of the sections.  
_

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878), June – Kyoto =

Chief Shimozaki of the Kyoto Police was surprised when Lieutenant Inspector Fujita Gorō emerged from the jail, followed by the rough-looking young man who had been squatting in prison. Sagara Sanosuke, whom he had witnessed busting open his cell door, was as boisterous as he had been when he was initially arrested, shouting that he was not Fujita's subordinate and that he would not be ordered around.

"Fujita-kun, how did the interrogation go?" Shimozaki moved towards them, glancing apprehensively at the lieutenant inspector's unexpected companion. While he had asked the man to do something about the troublemaker, he never would have thought that Fujita would allow him to observe the interrogation of their most dangerous prisoner.

"Sawagejō gave up the plans – the situation is urgent and requires immediate action." Fujita answered in a curt tone. "I'll begin drawing up countermeasures. Which office will I be using during this operation?"

"We've prepared a room for you down the main corridor on the first floor." He indicated the direction. "And what about him…?"

Sanosuke, hands in his pockets, was trailing after them as though it were completely natural. A fleeting furrow appeared on Fujita's brow, but his reply came out as an unconcerned drawl.

"We're dealing with a shortage of manpower at the moment. He's an idiot, but we might find some use for him."

"Oi! Who's an idiot!?"

"Are you sure about this?" The chief had been ordered by his superiors in Tokyo that he was to extend the officer every courtesy and allow him full rein on operations; however, that was not to say that he was without misgivings.

"If he gets in the way of operations or causes any problems, I'll deal with him personally." Fujita walked on. "He's connected to Himura Battousai," he added by way of reinforcing his decision.

"To the Battousai?!" Shimozaki's eyes widened in astonishment and he studied Sanosuke with renewed interest.

"Yeah well," Sanosuke scratched his cheek and Shimozaki noticed the fresh blood on his forehead. "I'll be helping you fight against Shishio Makoto and his crazy plot to burn down Kyoto. Yoroshiku na. But first things first: I'm hungry, let's go get some food!"

The chief of police blanched as he heard the name 'Shishio' and the phrase 'burn down Kyoto' stuck in his mind, but even as he wondered how this ruffian knew about the top-secret mission and how he was associated with the infamous Hitokiri Battousai, there was one detail that he could not let go.

"But you just ate!"

"Don't sweat the small stuff. You know what they say, you can't do battle on an empty stomach." Sanosuke patted his midriff. "And the stuff you provide here is almost as bad as Jou-chan's cooking, so I'd appreciate it if you could order in something from outside."

"You were free to leave after the first day! And you dare complain after freeloading for a week at our expense!"

Sanosuke's cocky attitude was not endearing him to the police chief.

"Ahou." Fujita glared sharply at the young man, tempted for a moment to put him back in the cell with the criminal who called himself 'Katana-gari no Chō'. "Chief, it's best not to pay him any attention."

Chief Shimozaki, still annoyed by the exchange, opened the door to the office. It was relatively spacious with all the requisite furnishings – bookshelves, desks, chairs – and boxes full of files pertaining to the investigation.

After Shimozaki and Sanosuke sat down, Fujita proceeded to outline the results of the interrogation and the situation regarding Shishio's 'Great Kyoto Fire' plan. By the time the briefing was done, Shimozaki had broken out into a cold sweat.

"I'll send telegrams to Osaka, Kobe and the neighboring prefectures straight away for back-up. And I'll notify Tokyo of course." He said with a quavering voice. The immense responsibility came with terrifying consequences: if they failed, not only would the city be destroyed, it could very well spell the doom of Japan.

"I'd like more field agents also." Fujita was mindful of the fact that Shishio had always been one step ahead of them so far; information gathering was absolutely vital in preventing the attack. "Has there been any word of the Battousai's whereabouts?"

Sanosuke, who had been reclining quietly in his chair so far, pricked up his ears at the mention of his friend.

"Not since he left the Aoi-ya restaurant." Shimozaki shook his head. "Do you think he's training somewhere with the new sword?"

"Hmph." Fujita cast his gaze around for an ashtray.

Whatever Himura was doing, hiding away in the mountains, he probably would show up at the right time and in the right place. It was not that he believed in coincidences or fate or any kind of divine intervention, but over the years, he had learned that 'things happen as they should'.

"A new sword? What's that about? Did something happen to Kenshin's sakabatou?" Sanosuke leaned in eagerly. "What happened to him on his way to Kyoto? Hey! Hey!"

"Chief Shimozaki, I'll leave it to you to handle the coordination with the other prefectural headquarters. I'll draw up personnel assignments once we know how many men will be made available to us. And I need the most up-to-date maps of the city and the surrounding areas." Saitou continued in his habitual cool manner, not bothering to answer Sanosuke's questions.

"Don't ignore me, damn you!"

"Shut up and go bring me an ashtray."

"I told you not to order me around! I'm not your lackey!" The younger man pushed back his chair with a screech of its legs on the floor and got to his feet.

"If you're not going to make yourself useful, then get the hell out of here. The police station isn't a hangout for down-and-outs." Fujita's tone dropped dangerously; he had not taken a seat, nor had he removed his sword from his belt.

"Fujita-kun," Shimozaki intervened as he recalled the destruction of the jail cell. "And you, Sagara Sanosuke or whatever your name is – settle down! This is hardly the time to be squabbling." He sighed heavily. "I'm going to send the telegrams, and I'll also order in some food.," he said by way of placating Sanosuke. "Since you're now a cooperating partner in this operation," he turned to the young man, "mind your manners while you're dining on our dime. Honestly, young people these days…." With a stern parting look at Sanosuke, he left the office.

As the footsteps retreated down the corridor and out of earshot, Sanosuke turned towards the man he knew as Saitou Hajime and smacked his right fist into his left palm.

"So, you going to answer my questions, or am I going to break this desk?"

"Is breaking inanimate objects the extent of your abilities?" Saitou curled his lip scornfully. "You really are an idiot if you think that will get you anything."

"Argh! What's your problem!? Why can't you just answer me like a reasonable human being!?" A vein began to throb on Sanosuke's brow.

"Because you interrupted my conversation with the Chief and now you make idiotic threats. Ahou." Saitou turned away and walked over to the window.

"Stop calling me an idiot!" Sanosuke clenched his teeth and fists in frustration. "Fine! You want me to help look for Kenshin, you're gonna at least tell me what happened to him on his way to Kyoto!" He drew himself up to his full height, although he was still a few inches shorter than the other man.

Saitou slowly removed a carton of cigarettes from his pocket, tapping out a cigarette before speaking.

"The Battousai and I confronted Shishio and some of his men along the Tōkaidō. He faced off against them, and the one called 'Tenken no Sōjirō' broke the sakabatou." He relayed the condensed version of events in a monotone as he opened the window and began to smoke. "They left, then we left, and while I was looking after some business in Kobe, the Battousai went looking for a new sakabatou. He found one at the same time as he fought that broom-head locked up in the basement."

"Kenshin's sakabatou broke?! Shishio and his men got away?" Sanosuke's voice increased again in volume. "Huh, they really are that dangerous." Pinpricks of goose bumps raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Scared? It's not too late to go back to Tokyo." Saitou exhaled slowly, the smoke escaping his lips in narrow coils.

"Hah! Not until I punch Shishio Makoto in the face!" A wide grin spread across the young man's face. "And then, it's your turn."

"You don't learn, do you?" Saitou met his eyes with a cold glare, although inwardly, he was mildly amused by his bravado. "Big words don't make the man."

"If you think that I'm the same as the last time we met, you're in for a painful surprise." Sanosuke brimmed with a newfound confidence that he had not possessed when they had sparred before. Saitou acknowledged that there must be some truth behind his claim, if the skill he had shown earlier was not a fluke. Sanosuke said smugly, "So, are you gonna ask about my training on the way to Kyoto?"

"No." Despite a certain degree of interest, Saitou was not inclined to indulge Sanosuke's ego.

"Well I'm not going to tell you." Sanosuke threw back his head defiantly like a crowing cockerel. "Hey, hang on, did you say no? Uh, don't you want to know?"

"No."

"Why don't you want to know?" He was now indignant. "Come on, ask me!"

"No."

The sounds of the city carried on the air. As a breeze swept into the room, a myriad of memories stirred up strong emotions. Saitou had been no older than Sagara when he had first arrived in Kyoto, but that was where the similarities ended (as far as he would admit). The Captain of the Third Unit of the Shinsengumi had never been an idiot, nor so brash and uncouth. A thought niggled at the back of his mind, that there was one other trait they held in common: they were not afraid to put their lives on the line for what they believed to be right.

"Shifty, underhanded creep!" Sanosuke started to insult Saitou out of exasperation. "No wonder the Meiji government is so full of shit, with men like you working for them! Yeah, I almost thought you might be a half-decent guy when you were talking 'bout stopping Shishio's plan, but I forgot that you're the type of bastard who enjoys attacking innocent civilians!"

"A guy who used to be a fighter-for-hire is complaining about a fight? Don't be such a hypocrite just because you lost – miserably." Saitou's smirk was full of contempt.

"Well, I was tougher than you thought, wasn't I? You tried to kill me and couldn't." Sanosuke growled. "And you know what they say – what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Ahou. If I'd tried to kill you, you'd be in a grave right now." Saitou rested against the wall, holding his cigarette out the window.

The younger man opened his mouth to argue, but then paused. Which truth did he prefer: that Saitou Hajime had actually tried to kill him and failed only because of his own innate vitality, or that the man had deliberately held back and spared his life? He had been told that he was fortunate that none of his organs or vital spots had been hit; later, he had guessed that it must have been more than dumb luck. However, to hear it from the man's own mouth hurt his pride.

"It's only thanks to Megumi that I'm here now," he glowered. He was loath to give any credit to the man in front of him. "Actually, what would you have done if I she hadn't come along, huh? You bet your ass that Kenshin wouldn't be working with you now."

"It was a calculated risk." Saitou did not tell him that he had known that Takani Megumi was on her way to the dojo. "And it was a lesson that both the Battousai and you needed to learn. Though obviously in your case, you're too thick to get it." Saitou said with a smirk.

"Asshole! I thought you'd come to fight Kenshin, but you were deliberately after me from the beginning, weren't you?" Sanosuke knew that he should not let Saitou get under his skin but he had never met a man who infuriated him more.

"It was you or the brat, or the Kamiya girl. Would you have preferred it if I'd gone after one of them?" He tapped the tobacco ash to the ground.

"Wouldn't put it past you," Sanosuke muttered scornfully. Yet, even as he spoke, he knew that it was not true. He grudgingly recognized that the man before him was not truly psychotic, as Udo Jin'e had been. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a jerk of the first degree? You never even said sorry for stabbing a guy, or putting a hole in the dojo wall."

"What, were you waiting for an apology?"

"Hah! Looks like I'm not going to be changing my opinion of you any time soon." Sanosuke grimaced.

"The feeling's mutual." Saitou blew out a ring of smoke.

"Tch! So where is Kenshin now?"

"We don't know. You should go find him and leave me in peace." The cigarette had burned to a short stub and Saitou's tolerance for Sanosuke's company was burning out with it.

"You're telling me I've been waiting here this past week for nothing? Damn you, and damn him! Both you and Kenshin piss me off." Sanosuke gritted his teeth. He still had not forgiven Himura for leaving for Kyoto without seeing him, and he was still smarting from being treated as a weakness. "I'm gonna knock the both of you out one day."

"Until then, go make yourself useful or you'll be bunking with that broom-head in the prison." Saitou had the urge to flick the butt of his cigarette at him but refrained; it would only lead to more aggravation when he wanted to get started on the mountain of work ahead. "And go wash up – you've still got blood on your face."

"Why are you always telling me what to do?" Despite his sullen tone, the young man headed towards the door. "Oh, and if the food arrives, don't start eating without me."

Saitou did not bother to reply; his eyes remained fixed outside the window as he crushed the remnant of the ember on the windowsill and dropped the butt on the gravel below (the thought occurring after the fact that Tokio would have been displeased with his manners). It was a calm night, and the calmness bothered him. While his arrival had been delayed, he had been concerned that Shishio's men would attack the station in order to free Sawagejō or to kill him. However, there had been no such movements. Either Shishio was conceited enough that he did not worry about his plans being leaked, or he had changed the operation and therefore did not care, or there was some other reason why he wanted his plans leaked.

He could not suppress a rueful grin of sorts as he recalled how similar the situation was to the actual Ikedaya Affair. Back then, the Shinsengumi had arrested Furutaka Shuntarō under suspicion of conspiracy; the wretched man had not held out long under Hijikata Toshizō's questioning. Nonetheless, the Ishin Shishi had held their meetings according to plan, much to their detriment. Such hubris – what was it about men who entertained notions of grandeur that made them ignore the fact that they were just men, and that their best laid schemes could be undone by men. Reflexively, Saitou gripped the hilt of his sword; the thrill of that particular battle had never quite died. It had been a defining point of his life: the Shinsengumi at the pinnacle of their existence, the battle in which they had all been united as one in their cause, and the moment that the entire fate of the city, and with it the country, had rested on their shoulders. It was also when he had realized that Okita Souji was gravely ill, and the first time he had noticed Himura Kenshin in the shadows of the night.

As his thoughts turned to Himura, he sat down at the desk and went through the files on his movements. It had been over a week since the redheaded swordsman had last been spotted. He gave a small snort as he reflected on the difference in their approaches. While Fujita was wrangling bureaucracy and overseeing the assignment of hundreds of police officers, the Battousai had been busy saving a baby. How typical, and how absurd. The issue was not with Himura's actions per se (which had turned out to be rather fortuitous), but that instead of presenting himself at the police station like a regular government agent, he was still intent on clinging to his identity as a rurouni.

Until Himura Kenshin reappeared, Saitou could not factor him into his plans. Without the special unit also, he had few options in terms of capable operatives. Sagara Sanosuke wanted to join them so he might as well take advantage of that. Certainly, the rooster head was an idiot. He was the kind of idiot who did not try to dodge an iron ball aimed at his head. He was also the kind of man who did not flinch when the iron ball slammed into his skull. Saitou could not argue with the natural physical attributes that allowed him to bear such a blow in stride. If he was properly trained and he used his head a little more, he could become formidable.

'That's a big 'if',' Saitou thought skeptically. In the meantime, so long as Sagara did not interfere with his work and could stand guard against a possible attack, the police force could afford to accommodate him. The lout also needed to take a bath and change his clothes – he stank to the high heavens. That jacket of his, with the character 'Aku' emblazoned on it, was an eyesore. It was not that Saitou disdained the power of symbols, but he could not abide uncleanliness. A hint of a smile appeared on his lips as a conversation with his wife came to mind, and his fingers traced the outline of the omamori that she had made for him, tucked away in the inner pocket of his uniform.

"_All young men will look for a cause," _she had said, _"and older men would do well not to ridicule them, lest they forget why they grow old." _

Tokio had a soft spot for young men with a strong sense of justice and difficult pasts. She had been intrigued when he had first told her about Sagara Sanosuke, and no doubt, she would be amused by the recent turn of events. He was already concocting a version of the 'Rooster and the Broom' that might make for a good bedtime story for Tsutomu. He allowed his mind to drift to thoughts of his family. It was another fact that distinguished him from Himura Kenshin: Saitou knew exactly where he belonged at the end of a battle. The impermanence of Himura's relationships, the distance he maintained in his dealings with people, the doubt he sowed in the minds of those who cared about him: it was little wonder why Sagara was angry and felt impelled to chase the man to Kyoto, to prove his worth.

If Himura regarded his so-called friends as liabilities, it was only because he made them so. It was the result of his half-hearted existence in which his guilt over the past mixed with his self-sacrificing desire to save others; he did not know how to truly trust those who wanted to be a part of his life, and for him to be a part of theirs. Perhaps that was the real lesson that Himura needed to learn; close ones were only weaknesses if he allowed them to be used against him. Then again, the Hitokiri Battousai had always cut a solitary figure, a convenient tool in the employ of the Ishin Shishi rather than a true comrade.

"Yes! You brought the food!" Sanosuke's voice rang out in the hall.

It remained to be seen how much Sagara Sanosuke would grow in the upcoming battle against Shishio. As it was, he had already gained some vital experience in his confrontations with Saitou.

"Why are you dripping water all over the floor?" Chief Shimozaki would probably not be thanking him any time soon for permitting Sagara to stick around though.

"Don't blame me – Saitou told me to go wash up, and the blood was kinda making my hair stick so I dunked a bucket over my head, but I couldn't find any towels."

Whatever merits his character might have, there was no denying that Sagara Sanosuke was an idiot.

* * *

= _Meiji Year 11 (1878), early May – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward_ =

One of the many things that Fujita Gorō appreciated about his wife was that she could read his moods better than anybody he had ever known. He had returned late in the night, and as though she had anticipated that he would have had a stressful day, she had drawn a bath with fresh mint leaves. He emerged refreshed from the bathroom, and as he sat down next to Tokio, he saw that a flask of saké and some light snacks were already prepared for him. It was the little things like this that made him reaffirm that he was indeed a fortunate man.

Without saying a word, he took the cup in his hand, and without saying a word, she set down her sewing for a moment and filled it for him. They sat in companionable silence, listening to the first crickets of the season. As he sampled the fish that complemented his drink, he watched his wife deftly stitching the black fabric in her hands; even in the dim lamplight, her fingers moved quickly and precisely. The thought crossed his mind that the work might strain her eyes and that she would do better to leave it until the following day, but he decided not to stop her. Tokio was stubborn about her housework and there was only one reason why she would continue sewing after dark: when she was making something for him.

Upon further scrutiny, the shape of the garment struck him as odd. His curiosity got the better of him and he reached out to straighten the folds so he could see it better. Tokio smiled faintly at his interest as he asked,

"What is it?"

"It's called a 'tee-shatsu'." She held it up for him. "Kenjirō-san told me about a cotton undershirt that the American soldiers wear under their uniforms."

He rubbed the fabric between his fingertips – the light cotton was breathable and soft.

"How do you put it on?" He saw no buttons. "You just pull it over your head?"

"Yes." She resumed attaching the last sleeve. "I'm sorry that it's not ready yet, but I only drew up the patterns this evening."

"The sleeves are short." It was a novel concept.

"I thought it would be cooler for the summer…."

"And all this because I said that I didn't like my shirts, hmm?" His amber eyes glinted as he cocked his head at her. A few days ago, he had complained that the uniform regulation collared shirts were too stiff and heavy for the coming summer.

"I really do spoil you, don't I?" She murmured.

"Only because you want to." With his knuckles, he lifted her chin to look up at him. "Like the fact that you brought out the good saké tonight."

Earlier that evening, he had turned down Shibumi's invitation for a drink, using the excuse that _"when I drink, it really makes me want to kill"_, but in truth, he had always been selective about who he kept company with. The saké that Tokio poured for him soothed his spirit and enhanced his enjoyment of life; even as part of his job, he had no desire to play drinking buddies with a corrupt pest of a politician.

"You left home with your dress-up gear, so I figured you'd want to unwind properly."

"Don't call it my dress-up gear," he clicked his tongue lightly. She was fully aware that he had an undercover assignment.

"And what happened to the Ishida-sanyaku box that you spent so long preparing?" Chuckling softly, she bowed her head as she focused on the last bit of needlework.

"I left it at the Kamiya Dojo."

Even though she had been anticipating such an answer, Tokio felt her heart constrict tightly. She understood that it concerned Himura Kenshin, and she knew that despite his indifferent demeanor, her husband had been restless at the prospect of facing his old foe after all these years. It had been a comical sight to see him fixing up an old medicine box, painting it with the symbol of Hijikata Toshizō's family business. She did not press him about his day, certain that he would let her know about it in due course. By the time the t-shirt was completed, he had finished the first flask. Usually, some measure of cajoling would be necessary before she allowed him to have a second one on a work night, but tonight, she simply nodded when he looked at her expectantly, and went to the kitchen to bring him another.

The smell of tobacco tickled her nose when she returned, a scent that had grown familiar and reassuring over the years. He was smoking contentedly on the engawa; although the nights were still cool, they had long ago agreed that he would not smoke inside the house.

"I had a relatively interesting day," he began as she moved next to him, offering him the new flask.

"Is that so? But it doesn't seem like you met Himura Kenshin…." There were no signs of the expected confrontation.

"No, he was out. Sagara Sanosuke was there instead."

"He's the young fighter you mentioned before?" She had a good memory about his work and paid attention to the details he shared with her. "I think I must have seen him around town once – I overheard people pointing him out. He's quite famous, with that jacket of his."

"He's a street thug, no more and no less." While Sagara's strength might be lauded in the bars and back streets, there was no discipline or artistry to his style.

"Oh dear…." Tokio frowned at her husband. "You did something very rude to him, didn't you?"

"Rude? I was doing my job." Fujita frowned back at her; it was unlike Tokio to criticize his work, no matter what she privately thought of his methods.

"Well, I think it's in very bad taste." She arched an eyebrow at him.

"You do, do you?" He turned to the side as he exhaled so as not to blow smoke into her face. Tokio knew him well enough that she might have deduced that they had fought, and that the younger man had not come out of the confrontation unscathed. "That is one way of looking at things."

"I mean, he had no sense of fashion to begin with, but did you really have to make things worse?" She sniffed daintily.

"Fashion? What exactly are you talking about, woman?"

"His jacket – the one with the character 'Aku'. You just couldn't resist adding 'Soku Zan' to it, could you? That's terribly tacky!" She declared with a twinkle in her eye.

He almost choked on his cigarette and started to cough and guffaw at the same time. He could count on one hand the number of women who dared to poke fun at him, and she was the only one who could also make him laugh at himself in the process. As he cleared his throat, Tokio stole the cup of sake from him and finished it off. He glared at her as she smiled innocently.

"My, that is good."

"If you want some, go get your own cup."

"No, I just wanted some of yours."

"Tch!"

"So, if you didn't commit sartorial vandalism, you just left the Ishida Sanyaku box with Sagara-san? What did you tell him?" She brought the conversation back to the original topic.

"I didn't tell him anything. Battousai should be able to piece things together." He coolly met her gaze as realization dawned on her.

"I see…. Will he survive?" She did not even flinch at the implication. Her husband had always done his job as he saw fit, and she supported him with equal resolve.

"The Takani doctor was on her way to the dojo so he'll be fine – I went easy on him. Nothing that a few days of rest won't heal." He ground out the cigarette into the ashtray and pulled her closer to him.

"Takani-sensei? How is she?" She settled against the crook of his shoulder.

"I don't know." He had never met the woman in person.

"I should go see her again…. Teru-hime-sama and the other ladies were wondering what might be done about her situation."

"Can it wait until after this is over?" The mention of his wife's former mistress always seemed to irk him. "I didn't tell you about her so that the Aizu Spinster Brigade could complicate matters."

"Yes, I know." Tokio answered in a placatory tone. "And please don't be rude about my princess."

Fujita gave a quiet snort but said nothing. The new Meiji era had so far not been kind to Tokio's homeland and countrymen. He knew how sincere she was about helping her fellow Aizu people, and the subject of Takani Megumi had struck a chord; he respected her efforts on that front as much as she respected him in his work. He had made a mental note that once the matter of Shishio Makoto had been resolved, that he would try to do some more digging into the Takani family for his wife's sake.

"I can hardly imagine Himura Battousai's reaction to your visit," she said with a shake of her head. Her husband had deliberately provoked one of the most dangerous men in all the country who also happened to be his oldest, deadliest foe, and she could not altogether quell the uneasiness in her heart.

"Hmph. It should serve as a wake-up call."

"You really think he has grown weaker over the years?"

"In the years since we've been married, we've never let harm come to our family." He gripped her shoulder tightly. "But that fool, in the space of a few months, allowed the Kamiya girl to get kidnapped, the Myōjin boy to be poisoned, let Takani Megumi fall back into enemy hands, and he failed to protect a boy who ended up losing the use of his right hand. His rurouni's vow hardly does any good except to shield his self-esteem." His voice dropped harshly. "It was never in the Battousai's nature to protect." He felt Tokio give a small nod against his shoulder.

"He probably is not used to having people to care about, or who care about him." She sighed. "So, you targeted the man that he has come to rely on most in order to demonstrate how vulnerable they are."

"It takes a lot more than a useless sword to protect what's important. And at this rate, one of them is going to end up dead." He swallowed a swig of sake.

"And you took it upon yourself to play the villain in order to drive that point home, and to give him a reason to face you," she said in a gentle tone. "Even though you know it will win you no favors." Her husband's mission would be a failure if Himura Kenshin saw through the ruse.

She really did understand him better than anybody else. Although most would have categorized his actions as antagonistic and sadistic, she never doubted that the man she had married was a good man who adhered to his own sense of justice, albeit with a skewed sense of humor.

"Why would I care about winning their favor?" He raised an eyebrow. "What do you think I want to do, become friends with them?"

She could not suppress a chuckle at the thought of him abiding by the conventions of human niceties.

"I gather you weren't all that impressed by Sagara-san."

"No." Fujita was not a man who was impressed easily. "After all I'd heard about his reputation, I expected him to be a better opponent. He was hardly worth the time."

"A man's worth is not just in how strong he is."

"But it definitely shows in how well he carries himself." He looked down at her. "He's just an idiot who likes to brawl. "

"Oh dear. Do you know, I do remember meeting a group of young men way back when, who also liked to brawl."

"Ahou. Don't compare us to him." He pinched her nose between a calloused thumb and forefinger, and she twisted her head to escape his grasp. "He used to be a junior member of the Sekihōtai – he took his surname from Sagara Sōzō."

Tokio stiffened at the mention of the name and lowered her eyes.

"That is unfortunate." She murmured. "But it makes sense why he would be drawn to Himura Kenshin."

"Because he likes hypocrites?" Fujita's response did not miss a beat.

"Because he must be an idealist. All young men will look for a cause," she reached for his hand on her shoulder. "And older men would do well not to ridicule them, lest they forget why they grow old."

"Are you saying I've grown old?" Despite his irritated tone of voice, he did not draw away when she entwined her fingers through his with a smile.

"It must have been hard on him, after what happened to the Sekihōtai. He was probably too young to truly grasp what was going on." Sagara Sanosuke would have been a boy less than ten years of age at the time. "It also explains the jacket."

"Aren't you being very sympathetic about someone you've never even met?" He felt an indistinct objection to her taking the young man's side. "You've always had a low opinion of the Sekihōtai."

Before the Boshin War, while Tokugawa Yoshinobu was desperately seeking a way to avoid war and not lose face, Sagara Sōzō had instigated a series of terrorist attacks in Edo at the behest of the Satsuma-han. This was carried out in order to provoke the Bakufu side into battle, so that Satsuma and Chōshū could rationalize the overthrow of the Tokugawa and their allies. After enduring numerous arson incidents and violent assaults, the Shōnai-han retaliated and attacked the Satsuma headquarters in Edo. Reluctantly, the last shogun Yoshinobu was dragged into the fray, and Satsuma and Chōshū had the excuse they had long desired in waging war against him. As the new government army advanced eastwards, the Sekihōtai spread promises of halving the taxes and equal rights for all classes in order to win the support of peasants and merchants who might otherwise have sided with the Bakufu – promises that could never be kept due to the expenses of war and nation building. Subsequently, at the convenience of the senior ranks of the Ishin-Shishi, Sagara Sōzō had been executed for the crime of spreading false promises in the name of the new regime. It also served to get rid of a man who had populist appeal and who knew about their dirty deeds prior to the Meiji Restoration.

"I still have a low opinion of them," Tokio replied dryly. They had, after all, helped to destroy almost all that she had held dear in her youth. "But I understand what it means to be used as a scapegoat, and to be branded as the antithesis of everything you stood for."

"Aku ichimonji, eh?" He snorted. More than the Sekihōtai, it was Aizu that had been falsely tarnished and destroyed.

"Indeed. So, are you sure that he'll survive, or should I be worried that Himura Battousai will track us down and come seeking revenge?" She took the cup from his hand again and sipped.

"Ahou." He shot her a look of mild annoyance. "You know it would never come to that," he added with an edge to his voice. He was ruthless and meticulous in eliminating anything that might threaten his family, and he made sure that besides the official protection of the police organization, that there was other unofficial protection in place too. Nothing and nobody got close to them without his approval. The Battousai would be no exception.

"Yes, Hajime-sama." Her expression clouded over. "I just pray that things will go as you planned."

"Himura Kenshin won't be a problem. The bigger threat will be from Shishio Makoto's organization."

"But everything will be fine, one way or another." She trusted him in all matters.

"You'll need to take extra precautions until this mission is over." He trusted her to take care of herself also.

"An Aizu woman knows how to defend her castle, " she declared quietly.

He smirked at her statement. He had witnessed first hand just how fierce the women of Aizu could be in defense of their own, and Tokio was not a naïve young girl oblivious to the risks.

A cold wind stirred the koi-nobori that they had put up in the garden for the 'tango no sekku' festival day. The carp streamers swam in the lantern light – a large black one for the father, a red one for the mother, and a smaller blue one for their son. Fujita felt his wife shiver in his arms; he shared the last cup of sake with her, which brought a flush of warmth to her cheeks. The empty flask was their cue to retire for the night. He made a final inspection around the house, making sure that the entrances were properly locked and nothing was out of place. She put away her sewing box and cleared up the flasks and snack dishes.

Upstairs, Fujita checked his son's room. Their dog lifted her head to look at him from where she lay, with the small boy's arms around her neck and legs over her belly. She thumped her tail enthusiastically against the floor as he approached. The man crouched down and rolled the child back to the center of the futon, covering him with the blanket that he had kicked aside. He stayed for a few moments, stroking the dog's head. Tsutomu stirred but did not wake, and Muku closed her eyes again. The man stood up and turned as he heard his wife come up the stairs.

"He's grown." The baby's futon was almost too small for him now. Tsutomu was tall for his age, just like his father had been.

"Oh, I meant to tell you. When we were out today, he noticed that the Nakamura's had five carp on their koi-nobori and while I was talking to the mother, he knocked down the pole and tried to steal theirs. He cried that we only had three carp and it was unfair."

She hid her mouth behind her sleeve as she laughed at the memory. Tsutomu had not begun to talk properly yet, but as with all mothers, she could make out enough of his toddler's speech to understand what had upset him.

"Hah! If he wants us to put up more carp, you've got a good bit of work ahead of you." Fujita's voice was low and his grin wolfish, and he patted her shoulder as they headed down the corridor.

"You say that as though it's all on me." She blushed crimson. "Did I tell you, Kobayashi-san keeps telling me that he doesn't look much like you?"

"What the hell is that hag talking about?" He growled as they entered their own room.

"I told her that he has his father's eyes." She sat down at her mirror and unbound her hair.

"What about my eyes?" He met her reflected gaze as she took a brush to her tresses.

"Amber."

"And narrow?"

"Well, now that you mention it…."

"My narrow eyes, hmm." He seemed vaguely annoyed.

"…. Did somebody say something to you?" She looked at him with a curious expression.

"No, it's nothing." His appearance often attracted attention, not always positive.

"For what it's worth, I think your eyes are one of your best features." Her hair, still as dark as it had been in her younger days, shimmered in the lamplight.

"You do, do you?" He moved closer, sitting down behind her.

She saw that he had brought up the black t-shirt, and that he was holding it in his hand.

"Are you going to try it on?" She wanted to see how it fit.

"No." He smirked, watching her reflection for her reaction. "You are."

Tokio gauged him for a moment, and then smiled sweetly.

"Would you like me to put on your uniform jacket too while I'm at it?"

Another one of the many things that Fujita Gorō enjoyed about his wife was that she reacted wonderfully to his teasing – a constant contest of one-upmanship, which he did not always win. That night, it was Tokio who gained the upper hand; even so, he did not regret it. She did not give voice to the dark thoughts that lurked in the corners of her mind: the apprehension about his latest mission, the acknowledgement of the dangers he took upon himself, the frustration that beneath the façade of their peaceful lives, there was the ever present threat of violence. Nonetheless, he saw through her unspoken fears, and in his own unspoken way, he appealed to her belief in him, the absolute faith she had that he would always return to her side, and her trust that he would never betray her.

Elsewhere in Tokyo, the people of the Kamiya Dojo faced a sleepless night as they watched over the unconscious form of Sagara Sanosuke. Takani Megumi had done her utmost to treat the wound but the blood loss was severe. She, along with Kamiya Kaoru and Myojin Yahiko, had barely left his bedside. As for Himura Kenshin, although he had a firm idea who the perpetrator was, despite his lengthy meditations, he was no closer to establishing the motives behind the attack. He could never have imagined the course his life would take in the coming weeks. For Sanosuke too, it was the prelude to one of the defining battles of his life, and the introduction to a man that he would aspire to surpass for the rest of his days.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878) June – Tokyo =

Mishima Eiji was aware that he was being scrutinized as never before. His head was bowed low, hands placed on the tatami in front of him forming a little triangle, just as Tokio had taught him. It seemed an age before he heard the commanding voice of Matsudaira Teru.

"Be at ease."

He lifted his head slowly, and glanced anxiously at his foster mother, who smiled at him reassuringly; however, he still did not dare to look at the lady seated on the dais.

The princess of Aizu had always been possessed of an imperious bearing, and even though she was now living a quiet life in retirement, she had lost none of the sharpness dreaded among the men of Aizu.

"He's a little on the lean side – are you feeding him well, Tokio?" Teru addressed her favorite former attendant.

"I do my best, Hime." Tokio bowed. "Boys his age are always hungry, it seems." She held Tsutomu in her lap, who was being uncharacteristically silent and still.

"If you're in need of money, you know I'll do what I can to help." The older woman snapped open her fan. "Heavens know how Fujita provides adequately on a policeman's salary. Especially now with an extra mouth to feed."

"You are too kind, but my husband and I are doing quite alright." Tokio answered mildly, although Eiji's heart wrenched at the thought that he might be a financial burden on the family. Noticing the stricken look on his face, Tokio smiled at him again; he relaxed a little as he recalled her warning.

"_Teru Hime-sama is quite a character, and you must not take her teasing to heart. In particular, she finds great amusement in needling me about Danna-sama." _

"And where is that wayward husband of yours? Gallivanting around the country again? He never comes to pay his respects, that ingrate." Teru looked over the edge of her fan with narrowed eyes.

While Eiji's mouth opened in astonishment at the noblewoman's blunt words, Tokio merely inclined her head without the slightest hint that she was offended.

"A civil servant's time is not his own, unfortunately."

Before Teru could make any more comment about Fujita Gorō, another guest was announced. Yamakawa Futaba had just arrived, and as she greeted Teru and Tokio, she begged their pardon for being late.

"A neighbor's boy was climbing a tree, and he fell and broke his arm. I was helping to look after him until the doctor arrived."

"Oh dear, I hope he'll be alright." Tokio frowned in sympathy.

"The doctor said it was a clean break and easy to set. But he did pass out from the pain several times." Futaba said matter-of-factly, although her stern features softened as she recalled the cries of the child. Turning over her shoulder towards the corridor, she then called out, "Kagekiyo, come inside and pay your respects."

A boy, about the same age as Eiji or a little older, entered the room quietly. Eiji watched him as he bowed in a practiced manner to the company.

"Kagekiyo, you've grown again." Teru looked appraisingly at Futaba's son, just as she had done with Eiji. "Are you keeping up with your studies?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Kagekiyo answered in a small but clear voice. "I am studying hard in order to become a doctor."

"Well! A doctor, is it? It's good to have a clear goal and medicine is a most respectable profession. You shall do us all proud." Teru nodded in approval.

"He's got a long way to go," his mother said modestly, but with a glint of obvious pride in her eyes. "And you must be Mishima Eiji-san. I've heard about you from my brothers Hiroshi and Kenjirō." She turned her attention to the Fujitas' ward.

"Hajimemashite, yoroshiku onegai-shimasu." Eiji stuttered a little as he returned her greeting.

"You boys are about the same age. You should get along well." Teru said, an order rather than an observation. Tokio and Futaba bowed their heads in unison at her words, as the boys glanced curiously at each other.

When Tokio had told Eiji that he was to accompany her to meet the former princess, he had tried to avoid it at first. The son of a farmer could never have imagined being in the presence of a noble and the mere notion scared him. However, when Tokio had insisted that it would please her greatly, he knew that it was not his place to refuse. She also told him that there was someone she would like to introduce him to.

"_Kagekiyo-san is a good boy, and his mother and I have known each other since childhood. I'm sure you will become friends." _

Kagekiyo was probably told something similar by his mother, Eiji thought.

"Now, why don't you two go and play. I'm sure you'd much rather do that than sit here and listen to us talk. Kagekiyo, you know your way around so look after him." Teru dismissed them with a wave of her fan and Kagekiyo bowed obediently and got to his feet. He waited for Eiji to do the same.

Eiji fidgeted nervously, looking anxiously towards Tokio for guidance.

"Have fun, Eiji-san." She urged him encouragingly, and Eiji nodded.

"Behave yourself, Kagekiyo." Futaba said to her son, more out of habit than actual concern.

As Eiji got up, Tsutomu struggled to get out of his mother's arms and ran over to the older boy.

"I see he's quite attached to you already." Futaba commented on Tsutomu's beaming face as Eiji reached down to take his small hand.

"Would you mind if he went with you?" Tokio asked Kagekiyo, knowing that Eiji would gladly take him along.

"Come along then, Tsutomu-kun." Kagekiyo addressed the toddler seriously, and bowing once more to the women, retreated from the room.

The women watched the boys leave, and as they disappeared down the hall, Tokio let out a sigh.

"Thank you very much, Futaba-sama, Hime-sama. I've been worried that Eiji-san doesn't want to play with the children in our neighborhood."

"He seems like a well-mannered boy," Teru said, and then called for a maid to bring out refreshments.

"He is, and he's good-natured, despite all that he's been through," Tokio said with feeling. It would have made things considerably more difficult for her had Eiji been a contrary or mean-spirited child.

"So will he continue to live with your family then?" Futaba had been as surprised as anyone when she heard that Tokio's husband had brought home an orphan.

"For now, yes. We'll have a proper discussion about his future once my husband returns." A cloud passed over Tokio's expression as she thought about Fujita, and she changed the subject. "But Kagekiyo-san has grown taller. And how wonderful that he's aiming to become a doctor!"

"The doctor you mentioned earlier, the one who tended to the boy with the broken arm," Teru cut in, "it wasn't Takani Megumi, was it?"

"No – Takani-sensei's clinic is too far from where we live." Futaba shook her head.

"Have you any more news of her?" Teru turned to Tokio.

The maid returned with tea and some sweets, and Tokio considered her answer as she recalled the conversation she had had with her husband the previous month.

"I'm afraid I don't have anything new to tell you, after I met her in April." She took a sip of tea. "I'm planning to take Tsutomu for a check-up later this month."

"I still can't believe that Takani Ryūsei's daughter turned up here in Tokyo, and a doctor at that, after all these years." Futaba said wistfully. "Our physician knew about her; he says that she's quite famous as the new lady doctor."

"Fufu, I should say so." Teru picked up a small sugar cake shaped like a flower. "I must remind Katamori that something ought to be done to help her. Has Fujita not been able to find any trace of her family yet?"

"Unfortunately, he has not had the time to go to Aizu to conduct his own search. He only found out about her situation in March, and he has been very busy recently." Tokio said apologetically. She smiled inwardly that if Teru had her way, her husband would spend all of his time tracking down missing persons from Aizu.

There had been so many families and lives shattered during the course of the Boshin War, and more than a decade later, the wounds still ran deep. Takani Megumi had survived a living hell, the same as the women who were now gathered discussing her fate, unbeknownst to her. When Fujita had discovered who she was in the course of his investigation into Himura Kenshin, he had mused to his wife about the twists of fate. He remembered her father who had treated the injured Hijikata Toshizō in Wakamatsu. He had hesitated to tell Tokio about the extent of the daughter's involvement in Takeda Kanryū's opium operation and subsequent relationship with the Battousai, but in the end, he had decided that he had no reason to hide it from her. He understood that Tokio would want to know, and that she would feel compelled to act. The women of Aizu were fiercely loyal, and their strength lay not only in their individual characters but also the solidarity of their feelings. Although she did not know it yet, Takani Megumi had gained some stout supporters who would help her on her future path. As fraught with sorrow as her life had been, she was no longer alone in the world.

* * *

_= Meiji Year 11 (1878) April – Tokyo = _

"Fujita Tokio-san, please come in." Takani Megumi called for the next patient on the waiting list.

"Yoroshiku onegai shimasu, Takani-sensei." The mother bowed as she carried her child into the examination room.

"I see you're here about your son today." The doctor indicated that she should sit on the stool next to hers.

"Yes. My son, Tsutomu, had a rather high fever yesterday. He seems to be better now but I was worried and – " Tokio sat down, holding the young boy in her lap.

"You wanted to make sure. Of course, I understand," Megumi said not unkindly. Something about the woman's way of talking caused a surge of nostalgic feeling in Megumi's heart. Nonetheless, she maintained her professional and objective demeanor.

"How long did the fever last?"

"For a day – I noticed he seemed feverish in the morning when I changed his night clothes, and he's usually so energetic but I could barely wake him up."

"Any other symptoms?"

"His nose has been congested and runny."

"Have you seen any rash on his skin?"

"No, thank heavens." Concern flashed in the mother's eyes. "Otherwise I would have brought him straight to the hospital."

Megumi appreciated that the woman was aware of the signs of the more serious childhood diseases. She proceeded to inquire about the boy's general health and any history of illness that ran in the family.

"My younger sister, Tami, was a weak child and prone to sickness. She passed away when she was only sixteen years old…" Tokio lowered her gaze wistfully

The name 'Tami' rang a bell and Megumi found herself looking more closely at the mother than the child. Although the woman spoke in the standardized speech of the capital, there were the unmistakable inflections in her voice that gave away her background. Bittersweet memories of childhood rose unbidden to the surface of her mind.

"Pardon me, but are you from Aizu?" Megumi's voice quivered as she recalled the kindly face of an older woman who had taken care of her during the siege of the castle. "You're not by any chance related to Takagi Katsuko-sama?"

"Takagi Katsuko was my mother." Tokio murmured, falling back into the dialect of her homeland. "And Takagi Tami was my younger sister."

"Then you must have been the lady with Teru Hime-sama during the war?" Megumi blinked rapidly. She indistinctly recalled seeing the princess from a distance, flanked by her attendants – even in the midst of war, the women had retained a certain glamor.

"I am touched that you would remember me and my family, Takani-sensei." Tokio smiled ever so warmly at the other woman, whose doctor's mask had crumbled for the moment and been replaced by the expression of a young girl staring in wonder. "Your father was so kind as to treat my sister on occasion. I was so sorry to hear that he did not survive the war…. But I am certainly glad to meet you."

Megumi bowed her head, even as she felt herself reeling with emotion. She had not met anyone from Aizu in the five years since she had arrived in Tokyo; feelings of surprise, joy, sorrow and shame welled up in her chest all at once.

"I'm sorry, I hope I did not make you uncomfortable. My son really was sick, and I heard that there was an excellent doctor from Aizu at this clinic," Tokio hastened to add. "I know that all the members of your family were most dedicated to their vocation, and I would trust your opinion more than any other doctor in the country."

Megumi felt her cheeks grow hot as the pleasure she felt at the praise conflicted with the guilt that she had incurred in the not so distant past.

"You knew who I was before you came here?" Megumi tried to regain her composure.

"Yes. I remembered Takani Ryūsei's young daughter, assisting in the infirmary at the castle while we were under siege. I heard about you from my mother and sister too, how hard you worked and how brave you were." Katsuko and Tami had worked alongside the doctors and other women in tending to the wounded. Tokio had also treated her fair share of injuries.

"Tami-nee-sama was very kind to me." Megumi pictured the slim, pale figure of a girl barely in her teens; Tami had comforted her when her family had left for the battlefield and she had been left on her own.

"Tami always wanted a younger sibling." Tokio's eyes glistened at the memory of her baby sister, who had been the darling of the family.

"You said she passed away?"

"Seven years ago, in Tonami. My parents also."

"I'm very sorry to hear that…."

Megumi needed no further explanation. Tonami, with its harsh winters and barren soil, had been a death sentence for many. Whether they remained in Wakamatsu or left for Tonami, there existed no easy path for the people of Aizu after their defeat. Megumi had stayed in Wakamatsu, barely eleven years old and living off what charity she could find, unwilling to give up hope that she would be reunited with her family. Even as the months turned into years, she had endured the suffering of lost children – always looking for the faces of her mother and brothers wherever she went. An orphan's life in the ravaged city was truly pitiful; there were times when she thought she would have been better off dead. Still, she had survived. She was bright and resourceful and would not succumb. She had even managed to study. She had made the decision to leave Wakamatsu only for the reason that it would bring her closer to her long-cherished dreams, and she had arrived in Tokyo with faith that the future held better and brighter things. Instead, she had encountered a bleakness and misery to rival that which she had left behind.

Overwhelmed with all these thoughts and finding herself unable to continue the conversation, she wordlessly resumed examining Tsutomu. For a while, the only sound was that of Tsutomu's giggles as the cold metal of the stethoscope touched his chest. Megumi made a few notes, then weighed and measured him.

"He seems like a very healthy child," Megumi said with a faint curve of her lips and tickled Tsutomu's belly, making him squirm with delight. "Tall for his age, and a good weight. He's strong too." Tokio sighed in relief, and the doctor continued. "Children often get fevers that pass quickly so the best thing to do is to make sure he's comfortable and gets plenty of fluids. Good nutrition is also key. Check his diapers to make sure he's digesting properly. If the fever lasts for more than two days and he refuses to feed, or if you see any signs of a rash, make sure to bring him back immediately."

"My husband told me I was overreacting and that it was probably just a cold." Tokio murmured self-consciously. In truth, if it had not been for the fact that she wanted an excuse to meet Megumi, she probably would not have come.

"Not at all, it's perfectly normal for a mother to be concerned about her child." It was far more troubling, thought Megumi, when a mother did not worry about the wellbeing of her children.

"I might be more protective than most. He's my first child, and as you can see, I am not so young." The color rose to Tokio's cheeks as she admitted to the doctor a fear that she guarded privately.

"I see…." It was unusual for a woman to have her first child in her thirties (Megumi surmised Tokio's age) and it did not always bode well for the mother or child; however, she saw no reason to worry. "So long as you were healthy and looked after yourself during pregnancy, there's little cause for concern regarding age. For your son, I'll give you a medicine for fever reduction if it will put your mind at ease, but often, it's better if he can sweat it out and rest."

"Thank you very much, Takani-sensei." Tokio bowed low, and Megumi returned it gracefully. "If I may be so bold…. I am sure your family would be so proud of you."

Although there was no malice behind her words, Megumi flinched and her stomach seemed to lurch into her chest.

"I'm sure that it must have been difficult…. All of us who lived through the war have struggled." Tokio ventured cautiously, watching how far she could tread without upsetting the younger woman. "We did what we needed to in order to survive. But no matter what indignities we have been subjected to or inhuman hardships we have overcome, we have a right to every happiness that we are granted."

"Yes…." Megumi hardly dared to say any more. She was seized by the notion that Tokio had seen through her crimes and she tensed up. Tokio's expression, however, showed only kindness and compassion.

Tokio had known too many people who had taken their own lives, unable to bear the humiliation that came with defeat or in order to preserve their honor. There were others who had fallen into a life of crime and depravity. The brothels advertised the services of the wives and daughters of formerly high-ranking households – women she had grown up with, women she had looked up to or looked after. The sons of proud samurai families roamed the countryside as bandits and brigands – they had lost hope for a decent life. Childhood friends had married enemy soldiers, or had become their mistresses, in order to find some measure of security; although Tokio would never begrudge them for it, whether it was out of shame or guilt or simply a desire to forget, most avoided contact with their countrymen. There were also those who refused to let go of the past and cursed those who had found some comfort and reprieve in the present. Tokio had been fortunate, and she never ceased to be grateful for the life that she had attained, though she had suffered too.

"We all do what we must to survive..." Megumi felt a pang as Tokio's keen gaze seemed to pierce to the core of her. "Takani-sensei, people like you are the pride of Aizu. And you must believe me when I say that if there is anything that I can do for you, to help you in any way, that I would be honored to do so – both for your own sake and for your family's." It was not an offer that she made lightly, and her sincerity struck Megumi.

"No, I can hardly be called that…." Megumi whispered and closed her eyes. "You do not know how I have lived my life…." What was it about other people's kindness that tempted confession?

Tokio haltingly reached out to grasp her trembling hands.

"No matter what has befallen you, I have no doubt that you are a kind and strong woman. As such, you are our pride…." Her words were like a balm to the younger woman's invisible wounds. "I say it again, that I am certainly glad to meet you."

Megumi managed to smile back, her eyes glistening with emotion. She drew strength and solace as she thought about the man who had given her a chance for redemption; if Himura Kenshin could struggle on in his search for atonement, bearing all the burden of the lives he had taken, then she must not falter in her chosen path either.

"Thank you, Fujita-san." She inhaled deeply and blinked back the tears. "I must say, it has been so long since I have talked to anyone from Aizu, and someone who knew my family at that. I'm afraid that I've become quite emotional."

"As have I." Tokio bowed her head. "Every time I meet someone who lived through that hell, it's all I can do to keep myself from crying."

"Then, may I ask, have you heard anything about my mother and brothers in recent years?" Megumi asked tentatively, her heart beating a little faster. It had been so long since she had asked anyone that question; during her time under Takeda Kanryū's thumb, it had been impossible to continue her search.

"I'm afraid not…." Tokio shook her head regretfully. She had uncharacteristically pushed her husband for such information that he might be able to discover before coming to see Megumi, but she had been disappointed. It could not be helped, she knew, for it could hardly be considered a priority for him at the present time. "However, I do have ties to the Aizu community here in Tokyo, including former retainers, and Teru Hime-sama and our lord. I will be sure to do what I can to spread the word that you are looking for them."

"I cannot tell you how much I would be appreciate such consideration." It seemed to Megumi that a crushing burden had suddenly been made lighter; it seemed too good to be true, that this woman had turned up out of the blue and offered to assist her, even going as far as to say that she would inform Matsudaira Katamori and Teru of her situation. "I have been," she bit her bottom lip for a second, "unable to act of my own accord for the last few years, and I did not know where I should begin to search…. I don't have anyone in Aizu to rely on, nor any place to go home to there."

"Forgive me for being nosy, but do you intend to stay in Tokyo then?"

Megumi could tell that Tokio had avoided asking her uncomfortable questions about her past and she was grateful for her discretion.

"I have not yet decided. Oguni-sensei has been very good to me, and I am just happy to be able to practice medicine." Her fortunes had turned around in the space of a few weeks, and where there had only been despair, she again had hope for the future. It was all thanks to the kindness of the most unlikely strangers. "But to be honest, I had always intended to return to Aizu as a doctor, once I completed my studies in Tokyo. However, I think it would be better for me to stay here a little while longer…." Megumi bowed her head. There were people here that she had grown to care about and bonds that she now cherished. She needed some time to heal after her recent ordeals, for it was only a short time ago that she had been so desperate as to try to end her life.

"I understand. In that case, I hope you won't mind if we keep in touch. I know there are other people who will be very glad to help you."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Doctor Oguni peered inside.

"Excuse me, Megumi-kun. I'm going to leave now to go make my house calls." The older gentleman doctor noticed Tokio. "Oh! On second thoughts, why don't I take over examining this lovely lady and you can go see my patients instead!" He grinned widely at the two women.

"Oguni-sensei, old men would do better to look after each other and not bother women with their lechery." Megumi tossed her head disdainfully.

"Haha, healing comes from the spirit and it would be good for those old men to be examined by a beautiful young doctor rather than an fellow geezer like me. What do you say, Megumi-kun? Shall we switch rounds? Now madam, what ails you? Your chest? Your buttocks?" Oguni moved enthusiastically towards Tokio; Megumi pulled him back by his ear.

"Actually, I've already finished the examination. She just needs some children's medicine." She glared at her mentor. "Really, have you no shame! Fujita-san, I'll prepare your prescription right now."

"Thank you very much, Takani-sensei. I hope I have not been too forward in our conversation today." Tokio seemed amused by the interaction between the two doctors.

"Not at all." Megumi appeared again as a bashful young girl in the presence of an admired older lady. "And thank you, Fujita-san. I too am glad to have met you…."

"If I may ask another favor…." Tokio blushed just a touch, not wanting to appear presumptuous. "Your father used to make a very effective salve for cuts and wounds. You wouldn't happen to make the same medicine, would you?"

"You know about that?" Megumi was surprised again. "Well, in fact, I recently made a batch. It's not much, but I can give you some to take with you, if you would like." She had prepared it according to the secret family tradition, in the event that Himura Kenshin and his friends might need it. After all, it seemed unlikely that his days of fighting were over.

"Oh, I would be so grateful!" Tokio clasped her hands together. It had stopped many a bleeding wound during the war, and it would ease her concerns somewhat to have it on hand, considering the battles ahead for her husband.

"Megumi-kun, you're being very nice today. If you were like this with all our patients, then they wouldn't call you Kitsune-sensei." Oguni cackled, earning him another glare from Megumi.

"Hmph! Better a fox than a raccoon," she stated haughtily. "You better get going, Sensei. Or have you gone senile and forgotten that you were on your way out?"

Despite Megumi's cutting manner, there was genuine affection and respect in their relationship. As she bid good day to the mother and child, the little boy waving until they turned the corner, Megumi felt a tenderness in her heart that she had not experienced in so long. Fujita Tokio had reminded her of many things; both good and bad, sad and sweet, that she had not talked about in so long. After a long period of misery, she was was now able to enjoy a sense of accomplishment and of peace again.

"Kitsune-sensei!" Her next patient brought her out of her reverie. "I've come for my check up!"

Megumi sighed. It was all Sagara Sanosuke's fault that the nickname had stuck; he had gotten into the habit of bringing around 'friends' who had obviously been in fights, or scrounging for handouts when Kaoru refused to feed him.

"_We have a right to every happiness we are granted….__You are a kind and strong woman…. _" 

The words echoed in her mind. As the daughter of the Takani family, she would spend the rest of her life making amends for her past, and she would not lose faith in her path again. Perhaps, one day, she might even forgive herself.

* * *

= Meiji Year 11 (1878) June – Tokyo =

"Can we play outside? We left Muku tied up in the courtyard, and I don't think she likes to be on her own." Eiji asked his assigned playmate as they walked down the corridor.

"You mean the big dog the Fujitas own?" Kagekiyo frowned. "Isn't it scary?"

"No – she is big, but she's friendly." Eiji remembered that he had been nervous when he had first seen the animal. "Have you not met her before?"

"Once." After a breath, he added, "she barked at me when I visited the Fujitas." Since then, he had been reluctant to approach the dog.

"She was probably just saying hello," Eiji explained, sensing the other boy's apprehension. "She barks to let the family know that they have visitors."

"Is that all?"

"Yep."

"Alright, we can go outside." Kagekiyo tried not to show that he was anxious. "By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm almost eleven."

"That means I'm older – I'm twelve." Kagekiyo drew himself up to his full height. "What part of Aizu is your family from? Wakamatsu?"

Eiji tensed visibly and squeezed Tsutomu's hand involuntarily, causing the toddler to babble in protest.

"Oh, sorry, Tsutomu." He took a deep breath and looked Kagekiyo straight in the eye. "My family is from near Numazu, in Shizuoka."

"So you have nothing to do with Aizu then? Why are you living with the Fujitas?" Kagekiyo caught Eiji's dark expression, and remembered his manners. "I'm sorry. Mother told me not to be nosy. If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to."

"I don't think you'd understand, and I'm not really supposed to talk about it," Eiji said guardedly, wary that the boy would take offense.

"Suit yourself. We all have things we'd rather not talk about." Kagekiyo shrugged.

"You too?" Eiji looked up at the older boy.

"My family is from Aizu." Kagekiyo shrugged again, as though his statement was self-explanatory.

Eiji nodded, although now he could not help but be curious about what secrets the boy might be keeping.

"Your uncles are fun." Eiji tried to keep the conversation going.

"Yeah, they're cool. Though Mother gets angry at them for doing crazy things sometimes." Kagekiyo said with a short laugh. "You're not afraid to live with the Fujitas?"

"Afraid? Why?" Eiji was taken aback by the question. "Tokio-san is very nice."

"She is, but she's just as bossy as Mother – and Fujita-san is scary!" Kagekiyo emphasized the last part. "He used to come to our house sometimes and drink with my uncles, but one time, he forced Uncle Kenjirō to spar with him and ended up destroying a tree in the garden. Mother was furious. I don't think he's been back since – Mother is scary too."

"Really?" Eiji laughed in astonishment; he had only known the man for a few days but he did not seem the type to let saké go to his head. "Well, I haven't spent a lot of time with him so I don't know whether he's actually scary or not. I think he's a good guy though."

"Huh. He is a friend of my uncles, I guess. Although, it's more like he's friends with Uncle Hiroshi and they both bully Uncle Kenjirō." Kagekiyo snickered.

As they came to the courtyard, Muku yipped excitedly. Eiji showed Kagekiyo how to approach her properly, and the boy seemed pleased that the dog was not nearly as menacing as he had assumed. Tsutomu began to chase Muku, who obliged in his game. After watching the antics of the toddler and the dog for a while, the older boy took out some marbles.

"What rules do you want to play by?" He divided up the brightly colored toys evenly.

"I don't know how to play," Eiji admitted.

"What do you play with your friends then?" Kagekiyo looked up from his counting.

"There were no other children my age in my village. And we didn't really play…." Eiji flushed. Life under Senkaku's rule had been stripped of most childhood joys.

"Don't you go to school now?" Even as Kagekiyo asked the question, he saw that Eiji was embarrassed and troubled.

"Not yet…. Tokio-san says I need to study a little more before I can attend. I do my lessons every day with her though." Eiji looked down and scuffed his toe in the dirt. He remembered that Kagekiyo had said that he was studying to be a doctor. "You're probably really smart." There was a note of challenge in his voice.

"Mother makes me study all the time – she's the one who really wants me to be a doctor." The older boy noticed that Eiji was now looking at him apprehensively, as though he expected Kagekiyo to make fun of him. "I'd rather be a soldier like Uncle Hiroshi, to be honest, but I don't think she'd let me."

"Why don't you ask your father then?" Eiji asked, the thought crossing his mind that Kagekiyo might be one of those boys who were tied to their mothers' aprons.

Kagekiyo picked up a particularly large blue marble and held it up to the sun, squinting at the light that passed through it. A long moment passed before he decided to answer.

"I don't have a father." He did not meet Eiji's eye.

"Oh." Eiji's heart sunk at his gaffe.

"I guess I don't mind telling you, because you're an orphan." Kagekiyo's words hit hard, and Eiji blanched, but there was no spite intended. "I don't think he's dead, because we don't have an altar for him or anything, but nobody will tell me about him, except that he was a fine samurai."

"I'm sorry." Eiji recognized by the tone of his voice that this information was not something that Kagekiyo volunteered often.

The older boy shrugged, trying to maintain a casual façade that hid a deep longing in his soul.

"So, do you want to learn how to play?"

Time slipped away quickly and quietly as the children engrossed themselves in their games – all the seriousness of their youth focused on the perfect move, the biggest prize. Gleeful shouts rang out and anguished cries rent the air, and occasionally, the older boys would allow Tsutomu to join in. As the sun drew closer to the horizon, the women came to call them away; seeing that the boys were just about to finish a round, they watched from the engawa while they waited.

"They look like they're having fun – I'm so glad." Tokio smiled warmly at her friend. "Thank you very much, Futaba-san."

"No need to thank me. Hiroshi and Kenjirō told me that Eiji-san is a good child. It's good that they're getting along." Futaba nodded in approval. "I do worry about my son – I've done my best to bring him up right, but even though he's obedient and respectful at home, he loses his temper and gets into fights with the older boys at school."

"Oh my, is he still being picked on?" Tokio had heard before that her friend's son was subject to bullying about his background and parentage; she had sympathized and tried to offer advice, but children must fight their own battles too.

"I tell him not to heed the troublemakers, but boys will be boys. I remember Hiroshi at his age was often getting into scrapes too." Futaba pursed her lips.

"I know we shouldn't coddle our sons…." Tokio looked towards the boys again and her gaze rested on her own child. "But when we think of all of life's hardships, it's hard not to want to wrap them up and hold them close to you forever."

"We just want to give them everything that we used to have. What's so wrong with that?" Futaba said wistfully.

"Ah! Tsutomu! Don't stick that in your nose!" Eiji's voice rang out, and he wrested a large marble from the toddler's grip.

"Nooo! And I was just about to win!" Kagekiyo dug his fingers into his hair in frustration.

Tokio and Futaba laughed at the sight; it was a scene of peacefulness that they would never take for granted. Children were resilient, and their laughter renewed the spirits of their parents who wished for them only the best. A loving home, a safe childhood, the warmth of happy days. Now that it seemed their hardest struggles were behind them, people of the Meiji era were filled with optimism. It was a time of cultural enlightenment, when every day brought new and exciting opportunities from the wide world beyond their borders. A land that had once cloistered itself away in fear of all things foreign now embraced all the wonders that they had never even imagined, and the West too was enamored of Japan. More than ten years after the Bakumatsu, peace and prosperity had finally returned to the country.

It was for this very reason, Tokio reflected, that men like Fujita Gorō and Himura Kenshin fought. And as she said a silent prayer for their success, she also prayed for the young people who had followed Himura to Kyoto, to show him he was not fighting alone and that he had a place to call his own. She thought as well of Takani Megumi, whom she knew had stayed in Tokyo, though Tokio could imagine how she must have struggled to restrain the urge to join her friends. She importuned the gods to be kind to them, to have mercy for all that they had suffered so far.

* * *

That same evening, hidden away in the mountains around Kyoto, Himura Kenshin reflected on the words of his master, the thirteenth Hiko Seijurō of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū. Hiko had set Himura a deadline: find the element that was lacking in his spirit, which held the key to the ultimate and most powerful technique of their school. If he failed to do so, then he would die; if Hiko did not kill him, then Shishio Makoto undoubtedly would. This vital quality was not something that could be taught – the man who had been feared as the Hitokiri Battousai needed to discover it for himself. He would stay up all night, pondering, questioning, re-examining the decisions that he had made up to that point. He weighed the value of his own life against all those that he had taken and found himself wanting. The answer to Hiko's question eluded him, and he faced the dawn with apprehension and doubt.

If Himura could have heard Tokio's prayers then, for him, for his friends, and most of all for her husband, perhaps it might have helped him see the truth earlier. As it was, it was only on the brink of certain death that he found it within himself: just how much he desired to live, that his life did not belong only to himself but also to those who cared about him, who were waiting for him to come back to them, who wanted to share in his future. When he grasped that truth, he also found a new lease on life. Having mastered the final technique of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū, his preparations for battle against Shishio Makoto were now complete.

The following day, a carriage drew up at the Kyoto Police Headquarters, and the short, red-headed swordsman was greeted by his former enemy.

"Hey. Arriving by carriage on an weekday afternoon, like you're some kind of important official, huh?" Saitou Hajime called from the open window. "So, how is it? Have you resolved to become the Hitokiri once again?"

Himura Kenshin smiled and answered,

"Well, I wouldn't be sure about that."

As astute as Saitou Hajime was, he immediately recognized that the man before him was manifestly different to the one he had fought only a few weeks prior in Tokyo. It disturbed Saitou, for the man seemed more confident than ever; contrary to what he had expected, Himura was even further away from reverting to the Hitokiri Battousai than before. Tokio would have told him that the world was full of contradictions, and that people were allowed to change. She was not wrong, Saitou reflected, and he would have time to contemplate those changes later. For the moment, the more pressing issue at hand was that of Shishio Makoto's imminent plan for the Great Kyoto Fire. It would be Saitou's first real command against Shishio's forces, and he could not afford to lose, for the sake of his Shinsengumi comrades who had died to protect the city, for the sake of his fellow police officers, for the sake of his wife and child, and for the future of Japan.

* * *

**################################### **

* * *

**Author's Notes: **cultural references and posts as usual on the MKR blog - go to profile page for links!

**RK FANS REJOICE! **Two new live-action sequels based on the Kyoto arc are scheduled for release in 2014! How excited are we! And yes, I hope to high heavens that they include *that* infamous scene, the one that spawned a thousand fanfics, the only mention of the other main character of my fics!

Eeni is also hard at work on the doujinshi, so please send her your love (Chapter 6 should be up soon!). Also, for those of you not following my recaps of "Yae no Sakura", the series is now at its climax - the Battle of Aizu - and we've just started to see some scenes of Tokio/Saitou interaction! Spoilers assure fans that we will see the couple in their Meiji days also!

Thank you so much to all you wonderful readers and especially to the reviewers! If you left me a note, then I'm sure I replied but if not, please let me know! (I've been trying to keep on top of correspondence as best as I can.) Special thanks to externaldarkness for proofreading and to Eeni for letting me bounce ideas around. I'm humbled and grateful for all your support and patience as this story is not so conventional and is really quite dense. In this chapter, I chose to include Sano and Megumi because those two kinda go together in my mind (not just in a shipping way). I wanted to shine a light on how Saitou and Tokio might have perceived the two. Just a few notes:

- **Sagara Sanosuke**: I apologize to Sano fans if you think I've played up the "idiot" card. The thing is, I actually have a much higher opinion of Sano than Saitou does, and seeing as it's written from a Saitou perspective…. I've always wondered how Sano and Saitou got along at the police station after volume 11 until Kenshin showed up. People who watched the Shin-Kyoto-hen were given one version of events - this is just another take on that. I just don't see them being so chummy-chummy, and they definitely have unresolved issues from their first encounter. Regarding the Sekihotai, the references that Sano makes to Tsunan in volume 6 about their dirty deeds in the past are true.

- **Takani Megumi**: Ever since I learned that Tokio was from Aizu, I have always wanted to write a scene with the two of them together. I admit that it was entirely self-indulgent of me. However, as an Aizu fangirl (it's my main obsession at the moment), I wanted to try to capture Megumi's past. The Boshin War was traumatic enough, but dealing in opium carried a death sentence back in the Meiji era - this was no small potatoes that Megumi had a hand in. She has arguably the most tragic past of the whole RK canon story; I think it's wonderful that she was given a second chance!

- **Chief Shimozaki**: Technically, he's never named in any of the RK works. However, I couldn't keep calling him Chief, so I used the name of his voice actor. It's not canon, but I hope you'll forgive me.

- **Saitou's black t-shirt**: did anyone else wonder why he wore a proper collared shirt for the first few chapters he appeared in and then suddenly changed? Let's go with "Tokio made it for him" rather than "Watsuki realized that it was too troublesome for Saitou to wear white shirts with all the bloodiness involved".

- **Saitou on Kenshin**: As I've said before, Saitou's opinions about Kenshin are not my own, but I do think his points are valid. His opinion also evolves over the course of the manga, so I wanted to try and show a little bit of that in this work as well.

It was nerve wracking writing Sano and Megumi, trying to keep them in character but not falling for cliches. I apologize that I wasn't able to do that as well as I would have liked. As always, I will be looking forward to hearing your thoughts and comments, and I'm always up for a fangirl discussion! Your messages and reviews motivate me so much - thank you very much again in advance! Next chapter - Kenshin makes his first real appearance! (I'm sweating at the mere thought of tackling that...)


End file.
